Full Circle
by The-Sapphire-Phoenix
Summary: a sequel to the Pirates of the Caribbean series, it chronicles the adventures of Catherine Turner, Will and Elizabeth's daugther, as she and her family and friends engage in a race against time through the Caribbean to beat Barbossa's nephew to the Isla d


Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Full Circle

"Catherine! Get ready to go; we're leaving soon," called a strong male voice softly through the door of the sixteen-year-old's bedroom. Her eyes snapped open as a thin smile danced across her fair face. Her father was taking her to his blacksmith's shop for a third time to help her learn the trade; against her mother's and grandfather's wishes, that is. The girl stumbled silently out of bed, already dressed in a simple outfit consisting of a cream-colored blouse, brown vest-like jacket, and tan breeches. She had awoken long before daybreak to dress in anticipation for the day ahead. Quickly running a comb through her long, dark hair, Catherine looked at herself in the standing glass mirror. _Not too bad_, she thought to herself, _not bad at all_.

She and her father, William Turner (known to nearly everyone as Will) departed the still house quietly to make their way to the shop. The pair had an especially strong bond; Catherine's first words had been _daddy, ship,_ and _smith._ Will was not only a blacksmith, but also a pirate, sailing with his old friend Captain Jack Sparrow.

The two walked slowly down the cool, early-morning street to finally arrive at the shop. Above the worn wooden door hung a weather-beaten sign that was labeled TURNER in peeling black letters with a hammer and anvil carved into it. The Turners entered the squat building, the door creaking on rusted hinges as it swung open and shut, and went over to drape their outer jackets on wooden pegs in the wall. As they set to their daily routine, neither could have predicted what was afoot in the Port Royal harbor at that very moment…

"Go find your own ship!" called the voice of a thin woman as a ragged-looking man fell over the side of the ship. Jack Sparrow looked up to the woman from where he trod water below.

"I'll be back, Anamaria. I always am," he asserted. The woman simply scowled and walked down the deck and out of sight. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" Jack called, not letting her get away without hearing the name once more. With the final comment, the sodden Jack trudged his way to shore, cursing his now former crew. He reached the shore in a matter of minutes and ducked under a low stone bridge, keeping out of sight from any passing soldiers. He assessed his position, planning out his next move. A regiment of foot soldiers went by overhead, their synchronized footsteps ringing above Jack's head. Once the sound had ceased, signaling the departure of the division, the man dashed out from under the bridge and headed for the road that wound near the docks. As he sauntered closer to the piers, another man had been notified of Jack's presence in Port Royal. Commodore Norrington was, at the moment, looking over documents with some officers when he received the news that Jack had returned.

Jack Sparrow walked idly down the road, preparing his alibi for anyone who should halt him. It was likely he'd be recognized, as his infamy in Port Royal went back over seventeen years, but Jack possessed a certain luck that had helped him out of more than a few scrapes in the past. If he should, in all possibility, be discovered, he knew what he'd do. It was as he strode down the nearly lifeless dirt path that Commodore Norrington set off to locate him.

Jack continued down the road, not paying much attention to the happenings around him. His eyes seldom strayed from his feet or the path ahead, but he listened carefully for any mention of his name or approaching regiments. However, as he took note of the sounds around him, he did not hear the adamant footsteps of Commodore Norrington, who was coming down the street towards him. _Smack!_ The two men collided, sending both their heads spinning. Each straightened quickly to face their assailant, but when their eyes met the other they found whatever words they were going to say catch in their throats.

"J-Jack Sparrow?" spluttered the Commodore.

Jack, however, was quick to regain his composure. "Well, well, Commodore. Fancy meeting you so early in my visit. I expected you wouldn't catch on until much later."

Norrington was dumbfounded by the impudent remark. "I, unlike you, Sparrow, have learned from past experience."

Jack shook his head doubtfully with a roguish smile. "Yet you still seem amazed. I think you would have known I'd be back. You see, Commodore, I'm not a man who is easily restrained."

"Ah," responded the other, coming to a realization, "of course. And with your rash friend Will Turner having a child old enough to follow your regrettable path, I understand you wouldn't want to miss a chance to rope her into the trade."

"My good Commodore, but you _don't_ understand. That's not all I'm here for. From what I've heard, she's nothing to sneeze at already," Jack said. He slid to the Commodore's side and placed an arm on the latter's shoulder. "I've also come to, shall we say, get the Turners out from under your fine white wig."

Norrington removed Jack's hand with disgust and eyed the man suspiciously. "What are you saying?" he inquired.

Jack gave Commodore Norrington a sly smile and sighed. "Well, I don't want to give it all away, but I have business with them out at sea and would be happy to take them out of your hands for, say, three months at the least?"

Norrington mentally debated the position. What exactly did Jack mean when he said he'd be taking the Turners away to sea? How was this _not_ some plot to return and wreak havoc in the Commodore's newly refined Port Royal? However, the idea of Will leaving for that long was tempting… "Mr. Sparrow, I do not know how to react to this offer. On the other hand, although it means shunning my duty for the time being, it is pointless for me to attempt to take you into custody at the present moment. As you have obviously not forgotten how to work your way around a situation, I am obliged to let you go for now. Providing, of course, that I get the chance to try and take you in at a later point in time."

Jack smiled, knowing that the Commodore would not be able to resist the suggestion. "Well, then. I'll not keep you any longer. Just wait until the opportune moment, mate. Then and only then will you capture me for good." With that, Jack gave a slight salute and turned from Norrington to head down the road towards Will Turner's blacksmith shop.

Commodore Norrington remained where he was, watching after the man with a small smile on his face. Norrington chuckled quietly once, pondering the outcome of his decision. He then sighed and started off along the path back to the docks.

Meanwhile, Will strode over to light the fire in the forge as Catherine selected the pieces of metal with which she would work. She then marched over to join her father at the anvil.

"Now," Will began, "Do you remember how to use the hammer?" After a quick nod from his daughter, Will continued, "Good. Then I'll work the bellows for now, and in a while we can switch."

After each had taken their posts and Catherine had donned a cloth apron to ward off soot and sparks they set to work. By mid to late afternoon Catherine had fashioned a simple yet attractive sword and a horseshoe or two for practice with some aid and guidance from her father. As Will fixed the pre-made hilt to the blade, Catherine tenderly studied each of the swords on the numerous stands around the shop. Examining each and every one with a critical eye, she finally selected one, a beautiful swept-hilt rapier. Her eyes lit up eagerly as her chocolate-colored eyes scanned the thin but sturdy blade, its perfect luster glistening in the sunlight emerging from a high window. Catherine drew it out of its place in the holder with the other swords and held it in reverent hands. The hilt was unadorned, but it carried a beauty all its own. The handle's tanned leather binding was soft in the girl's hand as she gave it an experimental twirl, practicing her swings. Her father, who had come over with the sword she had made, stood behind her with a grin on his gentle face. He lightly tapped his daughter on the shoulder, backing up slightly afterwards. Catherine turned to see what was going on.

"You can make a good sword, Catherine," Will nodded, smiling. He then quickly drew up the sword he held in a challenge. "Let's see if you can use one!"

Catherine expertly threw her rapier in the air, catching it in mid-spin with a smirk. "You bet I can," she answered coolly. With that, the pair set to fighting, each executing perfect parries and thrusts, as well as blocking each other's attacks. For a long while the two danced around the dirt floor in a flurry of practice moves. After a few minutes of constant slashing and swinging, Will spoke, trying to be heard over the sound of clashing steel. "Catherine, you truly have amazing form. You _do_ know what you're doing. But I must ask you; have you practiced your footwork?"

The pair stepped intricately around the floor, their blades constantly touching. "The instant I step," Will said, pacing once, twice and swinging, Catherine perfectly blocking each and every move, "You must decide what move would give you the upper hand," he continued, thrusting and slashing again. Catherine brought her sword up to meet her father's, and then backed away, out of range of the swing. Will smiled. "I do believe you're better than I am!" he exclaimed with deep pride in his daughter's work. They then set back to practicing, joking and fighting until both had lost all track of time. It was nearly dark when they heard the large wooden door swung abruptly open. Catherine's mother, Elizabeth Turner had come to the shop.

Immediately, Will hid the sword in his hands behind his back, and Catherine dashed over to stand behind a wooden beam, hoping her mother would not detect her presence. However, Elizabeth was too sharp for her daughter.

"Catherine Anne!" she called, highly annoyed with both her husband and her child.

Catherine peered out from behind the upright. "I'm not wearing breeches, Mother. I swear," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, you look lovely today, Elizabeth," Will swallowed nervously, quickly changing the subject. Elizabeth cast a severe glance down on him, silencing her spouse.

"You be quiet, and _you,"_ she said, indicating Catherine, "are coming home this instant!"

"But Mother, I love it here. I'd rather be here than at home with my _per_fect sister and brothers!" Catherine cried defensively.

Will attempted to save himself from the situation, but to no avail. "May I take this moment to say that I had nothing to do with this?" he inquired.

"Will, you are as much to blame as your daughter!"

"Oh, so now she's _my_ daughter," Will mumbled, "Really! She tried convincing me to bring her, but I refused and then she followed me here silently. Honestly, she's an amazing stalker."

To that day, neither Will nor Catherine could ever remember Elizabeth reacting as strongly as she did that moment. She began screaming at each of them in turn at a level of around twenty decibels, stumbling over her words in an effort to form complete sentences. Her tirade finally came to rest on Catherine. Elizabeth was so furious with her that she could barely speak in full, intelligible words. At last, Elizabeth became so frustrated with both herself and her daughter that she quickly brought up her hand, striking Catherine across the face. The latter stumbled backwards, taken aback by the sudden action. She shook her head briefly, ridding herself of the effect. Catherine straightened up slightly to look at her father.

"I think I may have deserved that," she said. Will, trying to hide a brief smile of recognition, pulled a straight face and cleared his throat.

"Catherine, your mother's right," he said, giving her a clandestine wink behind Elizabeth's back.

"What? I thought you were-ah. I see," she caught on, attempting to sound annoyed. She turned again to face her mother, who was still standing with her arms crossed in indignation. Catherine sighed. "I take it I'm going to be sleeping in the dining room," she mused. Will reached around to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

"And I'm sleeping in the parlor," he added.

Elizabeth looked down sternly on them. "How very right you are," she answered.

Catherine sighed, resigned. "I'm coming, Mother," she said, trailing Elizabeth to the door. Just before she disappeared beyond the threshold, Catherine circled about to smile roguishly upon her father. Will grinned back, shaking his head in awe at how much she reminded him of himself. He tossed the sword he still held in his hand from his right hand to left and back a few times, thinking. At that moment, he heard a soft sound behind him, and pivoted sharply, drawing up the blade in the same movement. He fell into stance, poised for action as the figure slowly approached.

"Who's there? Show yourself," he called to the shape. The shadow came into full view. Will stared on in disbelief. "Jack? Is that you?" he gasped quietly, astounded at his friend's unexpected appearance. "What are you doing here?"

The familiar figure of Captain Jack Sparrow materialized from behind a support beam, walking in his characteristically swaying strut. "Lovely daughter you have there, Will. You really are doing well for yourself, aren't you?"

"Jack, I can't believe it. How come you're here so early? I thought you weren't returning until January. Oh no- don't tell me they threw you off again…" Will shook his head in almost annoyed incredulity. However, his suspicions were correct.

"Yeah. Those seadogs I call a crew once again decided they couldn't abide me runnin' the show. So when we were in sight of the harbor they pitched me over the side and well, here I am."

"Jack, you're a man of many surprises," Will smiled, his voice drenched in sarcasm. "But it sounded like you were coming anyway. Why?"

"We were really planning on meeting you to- well, to warn you."

"Warn me?" Will quipped worriedly, "Of what?"

"You see, most of-" he paused, correcting himself, "no, all of- the survivors from Barbossa's crew have recently been reminded of how you were their ultimate downfall. Now they have rejoined and are looking for revenge- as sweet as it comes."

"But they-" Will hesitated, nervous, "They don't know about Catherine, do they?"

Jack thought a minute. "A man can only guess, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did. Barbossa had his spies everywhere."

"What can we do?" Will inquired.

"Here's my idea," Jack began, leaning in closer, "We can't do much; laying low here would be no good, and chasing after them would be just plain stupid, so I say you and your charming offspring- just Catherine, I mean- come aboard with me and-"

Will cut him off. "But I thought they threw you off the ship."

Jack paused, suddenly remembering his situation. "Ah. Well then…in that case, we'll commandeer a ship and be off. We'll stop at Tortuga for a crew and a load and from there, we'll head off the competition, beating them to the Isla del Muerto."

Will gave a half smile. "When do we leave?"

"So, did you come out alive?" Will asked Catherine. It was the next morning, and they were again at the blacksmith's shop. However, instead of setting to work first thing, Will had pulled up a chair, instructing Catherine to follow suit.

"What?" Catherine inquired, not sure of his meaning. She then understood what he was talking about. "Oh, you mean yesterday. Yes, I suppose I did. She managed to shatter some of the windows in the parlor with her screaming though. I was certain the boys and Victoria would split their ears."

"Now you mention it, it was a bit drafty in there last night, and I remember your sister complaining that her ears hurt…Anyway, there is something very important that I must tell you about."  
"I'm listening."

"Yesterday after you and your mother left, your-well, he's not really your uncle, but- uncle Jack Sparrow showed up here unexpectedly."

"But I thought he wasn't due back until January."

"Yes, well, he was here. He told me that Barbossa's crew (you know, the one from those stories I used to tell you?) has regrouped and wants revenge against us. You and I are going to leave the shop this afternoon and join Jack at the harbor. Then you're going to learn a lot about piracy in a short amount of time."

"You mean what I don't know already? Really, Father, you underestimate me."

Will chuckled softly, noting again how like him she was. "Anyway, I believe his full plan is to go to the island-"

"That cannot be found except by those who already know where it is," Catherine smiled.

"-And make a stand against Barbossa's crew."

Catherine began to pace, digesting the information presented to her. "Three of us?" she asked, considering the facts.

"Yes," her father responded.

"Against who knows how many?"

Will hadn't thought about how numerous their opponents would be when Jack had presented the idea. "Yes," he answered, uncertain.

"It's completely idiotic. I mean, it's a fair plan, but is there really a chance that we'll actually win?" she asked, not really posing the question to anyone in particular. She rotated to face her father. "I love it!" Catherine flashed an excited smile at Will.

"Then let's get to work- we'd best finish up before it's time to leave," he grinned back.

The two set to work, spirits and tensions high as the morning sun rose, bringing midday heat as the hours flew past. Succeeding in creating more horseshoes and other everyday objects, Catherine moved on to making more difficult products, as well as learning how to fashion more intricate sword styles. It was not long before the Turners had finished work and decided to squeeze in a swordsmanship practice session, hoping to fit in some supplementary moves and skills before they left to meet Jack. At precisely four o'clock, the pair took up their jackets and locked the door to the shop, setting off for the harbor. Will and Catherine both scanned corridors and alleyways, searching for their friend as they meandered their way through the streets. At last they found him behind a small lean-to near a dock.

"Jack, we're here," called Will softly, alerting his comrade of their arrival.

"Alright," Jack began, gesturing towards the waters of the harbor nearby, "Now, I've been checking out these vessels, and only one stands out for me, savvy?" He motioned, indicating a medium-sized ship painted dark navy, red, and yellow. The only flaw…there was a swarm of soldiers on deck; headed by a man none of the three wanted any dealings with. Will and Catherine stared at the ship, wide-eyed. Will turned back to face Jack in disbelief.

"That one? Why _that_ one?"

"Well, it's the only one that has actually stayed in the harbor, and all the important people I've seen have only paid attention to that one. Trust me, we're taking _that_ one," Jack answered.

"Oh no. Commodore Norrington is aboard that ship!" Catherine cried softly, still watching the ship, "We can't take that one."

"A minor inconvenience," Jack muttered, half-annoyed at the situation. He then asked Will hopefully, "Is she any good with a sword?"

Will smiled surreptitiously, reminiscent about his daughter's skill. "She's the best I've seen- better than me even. She'll probably win the fight for us," he laughed shortly.

"Oh good," Jack replied, turning to gaze towards the ship, "No worries, then."

With that, the group began their journey closer and closer to the ship, always keeping out of sight should any soldiers see them. When the threesome reached the sand, they hurriedly glanced around to make sure no one was nearby and shuffled underneath a longboat. Once they had huddled inside, Catherine produced one of the swords she had made while practicing in the shop. Handing it to her father, she nodded once. "Guard it well," she said, "It may be your only real weapon for a while. Will shook his head in awe as Jack, gaping at the quality of the blade, took it gently from his hands.

"Who made this?" he asked reverentially.

Catherine grinned factually. "I did," she stated. She then snatched the tip of the sheath in two fingers and lowered it, glowering dangerously into Jack's eyes. "And," she continued, "I practice four hours a day."

Jack smiled, remembering his first real introduction with Will. "You need to find yourself a boy, mate," he announced, looking at Will out of the corner of his eyes. "Or," he persisted, "perhaps the reason you practice four hours a day is because you've already found one, but your incredible skill in the use of them has scared him away."

Catherine leaned forward seriously. "I practice four hours a day so that when I become a pirate, I can be among the best."

"Good answer," Jack smirked, "Much better than your father's, I'll admit. Well, I think we can expect great things from you. Alright then, let's get moving, shall we?" He carefully lifted a corner of the boat a hint to see if anyone was coming. Jack then signaled the Turners to lift the jolly boat and begin walking towards the water. The companions, carrying the boat just above their shoulders, waded through the deepening waters towards the ship that they were to steal. Once they were close enough, they discarded the jolly boat and commenced their ascent of the back side of the vessel.

Now, while all of this had occurred, Norrington had left the ship and gone to oversee operations onshore. Standing on the dock, he looked over charts and maps presented him by officers on land. An unnerved officer, saluting smartly, showed up beside Norrington, spyglass in hand. "Sir," said the man, "you'd best see this." The man then offered his superior the glass, and found it snatched sharply from his grasp. Norrington brought it up to his eye, casting it on the ship in the harbor as directed by the officer.

"I always knew Turner was far too rash," he sneered, "Now his son is wrapped up in the family trade."

The officer beside him cleared his throat. "Er, sir? It's his daughter, sir."

"What?" Norrington thundered, "That's impossible! I thought he had a son!"

"Well, he does. They're both seven years of age; I saw them earlier today. However, he's been taking his eldest- a daughter- to the shop so she can learn."

"But-" Norrington stammered, "she's wearing breeches!"

"Surely you wouldn't expect her to wear skirts and petticoat to a blacksmith's shop."

At this remark, Norrington practically exploded with bewilderment. He rapidly began shouting orders to different men around him, and he himself hustled with a group of soldiers to the lifeboats. Planning to overtake a ship manned by three people of comparable talent was one thing; actually doing it was another.

Meanwhile, on the ship, Jack, Will, and Catherine's seizure of the vessel was underway. They had arrived on deck shortly before, and were now quietly making their way to the quarterdeck steps.

"Everyone, stay calm," Jack called, "We're…er, well, you know- taking over the ship."

Catherine brandished her sword, lining up with her father and Jack. "Aye, av-" she began, but then remembered what her father had told her while retelling his first adventure with Jack. "Aye!" she asserted, looking down proudly at the soldiers already inhabiting the ship. Without preamble, the somewhat dumbstruck crew recovered from the initial oddity of the "attack" and set to battling the assailants. Will and the other two fought back with gusto, knowing that they would win anyway. They nonetheless attempted not to kill their counterparts, but only injure or frighten them away. Soon after all of the resident soldiers abandoned the ship, Norrington arrived to "greet" the threesome. Will, Jack, and Catherine lined up single file, almost mocking the Commodore's orderly way of doing things as he walked past each, appraising them. Jack just happened to be first in line. Norrington roughly pushed past the devilishly grinning Jack, proceeding on to Catherine. "I would have expected you to turn out better," he sniffed.

"If you were my father," Catherine declared, "I'd have killed myself a long time ago."

Norrington inclined towards her, eyes narrowed. "Well, if I were your father, I'd have killed myself first." He then moved on, casting a plaintive look upon Will and shaking his head. "Such a disappointment," he mouthed to his fearless charge. Catherine, noticing the gesture, shoved in to defend her father, bringing up a strong fist to meet Norrington full in the jaw. The man flew backwards, toppling over onto the deck. Jack, seeing an opportunity to both take out his wrath upon his enemy and eliminate his presence, picked up a jollyboat oar and thwacked it with a resounding thud across Norrington's head, half-stunning him. The three then worked together to throw the stupefied and indignant Norrington overboard. Luckily, they had not yet left port, so the now-dripping Norrington had not far to swim before he was back on dry land. Once he reached the sand, he emerged sopping but otherwise unharmed, except for the fact that when Jack clobbered him over the head with the oar, the man had also taken a swipe at Norrington's dignity. He walked down the street limping and angry, pushing people out of the way all the while. Suddenly, he bumped into a familiar face coming towards him on the cobblestone way.

"Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, astounded.

"Commodore," she prompted, "I was looking for you."

"What for?" he questioned.

"I need your help."

"Oh," he growled, trying to get out of her way, "so now you need my help."

Elizabeth sidestepped to block his escape. "You have a crude sense of humor," she said.

Norrington sighed. "What do you need me for?"

"I have recently discovered that Will and Catherine have gone missing. I was hoping you could help me find them. Have you seen-" She was cut off by Norrington, trying to get past her once more.

"That's it. I'm not helping you."

Again, she barricaded his exit. "Why not?"

"_Look_ at me, Mrs. Turner! Who do you think, considering our conversation, did this?"

Elizabeth gasped. So that was where they were. "They did not!"

"Yes they did."

"They couldn't have!"

"But they did, Mrs. Turner."

"No-"

"_Yes_ they _did _Elizabeth." Norrington insisted, annoyed.

"Where are they now?" Elizabeth inquired.

Norrington feigned deep thought. "Well, I would say they're probably just leaving the harbor on one of the British Navy's finest ships."

Elizabeth looked away, thinking. "This was what I was afraid of," she whispered to herself. "I'll have to see about that," she posed to the other. Leaving him flustered and sodden, she set off at a brisk pace down the road. Elizabeth did not go first to the harbor, however. She was off to the tavern.

Reaching a small, hole-in-the-wall building, she ducked inside the musty room. She took an immediate left, going over to a darkened corner in which sat a huddled figure holding a small leather flask. "Gibbs," she said, sitting down, "I need your help."

The man raised his graying head to show his broad, weatherworn but still-young face. He addressed his visitor with intrigue and excitement. "Elizabeth! Good to see ye," he said, "What's the problem?"

"Will and Catherine have gone to sea. I don't know the exact reason, but I have a strong feeling that it has something to do with Jack," she answered, saying Jack's name as though there was a bad taste in her mouth.

"Ah. I see. So you're lookin' to commandeer you a ship and find 'em?" Gibbs reasoned.

"You're too good for me Gibbs. Too good," Elizabeth said, smiling.

"And you might not know the reason, but I jus' might."

Elizabeth sat forward expectantly in her seat, excited for some news. "Well, out with it, Gibbs! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I was buildin' up to it," he answered.

"You never cease to amaze me," Elizabeth shook her head.

"Well, anyway," Gibbs began, taking a swig from his flask, "last time Jack and me was out 'round Tortuga, we 'eard talk about 'ow Barbossa's crew been thinkin' about Will and how he ruined 'em. Now they're lookin' for him so they can get revenge."

"Do they know about Catherine at all?" Elizabeth inquired, unaware that Will had posed the same question.

"Now, Miss Elizabeth, I don't know that! What are you thinkin', I'm invitin' 'em for a drink at the Tortugan pub? Now listen, we're goin' to need a good fast ship. Not too big, but big enough. We'll need a crew, too."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I say we go to Tortuga, pick up a crew, and see if we hear anythin' about Barbossa's crew. From there, we can try to track Will, Jack, and your Catherine down."

"Then let's get to the harbor- there's no time to lose."

The pair left the bar, heading southwest down the road to the port at an exhilarating pace.

Meanwhile, Jack, Will, and Catherine had shoved off and were well on their way to their destination. They had lost all sight of the harbor just a few minutes earlier, and each set to taking different tasks upon themselves. While Will dealt with the sails, Jack and Catherine exchanged small conversation.

"So what should I call you?" Catherine asked.

"Hmm?" Jack responded, unsure of her meaning.

"Well, should I refer to you as Captain Uncle Jack Sparrow, Uncle Captain Jack Sparrow, Uncle Jack Sparrow, or just Jack?"

Jack's head was spinning. "Say the…the first thing again."

"We're coming up on the _Pearl_," Will called. Jack and Catherine abandoned their discussion and rushed over to join Will on the starboard side of the ship, where he was watching a large familiar ship hulk into view. The massive ship's sails had been replaced and now had considerably less holes, but it was still a picture of terror and treachery sure to frighten even the most stouthearted sailor. Catherine stared in awe at the ship; finally getting to see the one her father had told her so often about.

Once they were close enough to the other ship, Jack leaned forward to address the crew on board. "What were you dogs thinking, throwing me off the ship? You should have known I'd be back!"

A tall, dark-haired woman shouted in answer, "We were hoping we wouldn't chance to meet up with you…again."

"Well, Anamaria, you forgot one thing," Jack shouted.

"And what would that be?"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, remember?" he answered as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Anamaria thought for a minute after scowling over Jack's statement. "We were just returning from Tortuga," she told him, "It seemed as though this were important."

"Funny, we're headed there now. Any more news about Barbossa's crew?"

"Not that I've heard, but I'll keep my ears open. We're likely to catch you at some point later on."

Jack tipped his hat to the woman and both sailed on without another word.

By midafternoon the next day, the trio caught sight of the island of Tortuga and were well on their way to reaching its harbor by dusk. When the sun was almost all the way beneath the horizon, the companions tied up the ship at a dock and began to head in closer to the tavern. "I have someone you need to meet," Jack said as the three meandered down the muddy avenue, dodging drunks and quarreling men. They all looked around, Catherine impressed by how well her father had stuck true to the reality of the island and was now basking in the mad potpourri that was…Tortuga.

"This town is a man's paradise," Jack explained to Catherine, "or, in your case I suppose, a woman's paradise. All the rum you could ever want, almost total legal freedom, and – though an earlier adventure proved me wrong on this – commodore-free," he finished. Catherine laughed at the man as they entered the rank, malodorous tavern; a rancid affair with many broken windows and inhabited by all of the town's more infamous drunkards, criminals, and just about every other insane oddball on the island. Jack directed Will and Catherine into a quieter corner of the tavern, where they found a smallish circular table inhabited by a young man with dark hair and a kind face. Immediately, Catherine caught his moss-green eyes in her gaze and smiled warmly at him. He was something she had never seen, ever believed possible. But then again, he was perfect. Will, Jack, and Catherine sat around the table, the third still mesmerized by the young man already seated.

"Ah, Evans," Jack said, hurrying into the introduction, "Will, Catherine, this is Evans. He's one of my newer crewmembers. Wonderful lookout. Evans, this is Will Turner and his lovely daughter Catherine. Ah- I see he has also taken it upon himself to provide drink for us. Good man." Jack took a seat, pulling his tankard in nearer him and started discussing matters with Evans and Will. Catherine, finally taking her eyes off of the boy, decided to give rum a first taste. She took an experimental swig, tipping the glass back slightly. Intrigued by the invigorating flavor, Catherine decided she enjoyed it and downed the contents of her tankard in one long pull. Unwittingly, she also tipped her chair backwards in the process and toppled over backwards. Jack, without even looking at the girl, gazed at Will proudly.

"Your girl's a natural. I do believe she'll make a fine pirate sooner than expected."

The girl got up slowly, clearly affected by the alcohol, and brought herself up to her knees to look over the top of the table. "What did I miss?" she asked groggily.

"Evans just told us he found out who Barbossa's crew got for a captain," Jack explained.

"Really? That's interesting."

"It's his seventeen-year-old nephew."

Catherine and Will both gasped slightly, the former coughing into her refilled cup. "What?" they chorused. "That's insane," Catherine said, "How is that possible?"

"Apparently Barbossa had an unknown brother who had a son. From what I've heard, that boy was an apprentice in the shipyards and was discovered by some of Barbossa's surviving crew. Now they've made him their captain," Evans explained. "I've actually seen him once. He's about my age and doesn't really look evil. He _is_ very intelligent-looking and appears to be a natural leader, though."

A thought passed Will's mind briefly. "How will we know it's their ship, though? We can't count on the _Black Pearl_ because Anamaria has it, so how do we tell it's them?" he asked Jack.

"Look for a lot of evil-looking people on a ship that doesn't look evil. They probably commandeered it so they wouldn't give themselves away," Jack reasoned. He then stood, picking up his glass. "Well, I'm due for another. Anyone else?" he posed. Jack then swaggered off in the direction of the bar, leaving the other three alone in the corner. Will watched after Jack for a minute, thoughts skimming through his mind. His gaze then shifted to Evans, who sat staring into the reflections in his glass. "Evans," Will began, "how is it that you got mixed up with Jack?"

"Well, I had been sailing for awhile when I met Jack in this very tavern. He noticed that I was young and ready for a serious career as a pirate. He asked me if I wanted to join up with him and his crew, and I obliged. He had always been something of a childhood hero for me and I couldn't wait. Little did I know…" he laughed briefly, swilling his tankard a bit.

As Evans orated, Will's eyes occasionally floated from the boy to his daughter. He noticed that Catherine rarely took her eyes off of the boy seated next to her. When Evans was finished, Will laughed with him and stood, nodding to Catherine. "Catherine, can I speak with you for a moment?" The girl rose to join her father as he smiled warmly to the young man still sitting at the table. "Excuse me," Will politely said to Evans. He then led his daughter into an adjoining room, leaving Evans to himself. Will had barely opened his mouth to speak to Catherine when Jack appeared, motioning for them to follow him outdoors. Jack escorted them out to the shore near the harbor where numerous ships were moored. "There," Jack said, pointing to a large, navy-blue ship with off-white sails floated gently in the water. Three small jollyboats were clearly departing from this ship, each heading towards the shore. "It's them," he clarified. The threesome sat silently, looking on as the boats drew nearer to the beach. They were so enveloped in their monitoring of the deck that they did not notice four crewmen approaching them from behind. A split second before the men attacked, Catherine heard the crisp snap of a twig underfoot. She whirled around, drawing her sword to ward off the assault. Will and Jack, alerted by Catherine's sudden motion, but were too late for action. All three took blows to lay them out, and were borne onto the shoulders of the men who had attacked them. They were hauled down to where the men's boat was tied and thrown in, beginning their excursion to Barbossa's ship.

It was not long before they reached the ship and hurled aboard. On the boat trip out to the craft, Will, Catherine, and Jack had all been revived, but their hands all bound. The group was hurled onboard the ship, where they were greeted by a host of ragged-looking men who were immediately recognized by both Will and Jack. The three companions were shoved to the foot of the staircase up to the quarterdeck. A tall, proud-looking youth stood at the top of the stairs, looking down upon the captives with crossed arms. His longish, golden-brown hair fell about his steely-blue eyes and strong face. There were unmistakable sprouts of what would perhaps grow to be facial hair across his upper lip and chin, and his brows were thin and arching. "Welcome aboard the _Regency_," he greeted them. Catherine stared up at their "host" in awe and astonishment. Was this really Barbossa's nephew? He was even better than Evans had described him.

Will glared up at the young man. He had known Barbossa enough to realize that even his nephew who had very little contact with his uncle would probably have a few tricks about him. Will searched the boy's face, noting that there were some attributes clearly obtained from his uncle; his broad brow and high, prominent cheekbones greatly resembled those of his late relative. Will looked briefly over to Jack, who knelt to his left. Jack was also staring up at the adolescent Barbossa, only he was thinking differently. Jack's eyes were narrowed, remembering his last encounters with Barbossa. The only thing Jack could picture was a smirk across the face of Barbossa senior, and Jack imagined that same smirk on this boy's face. He knew that there was something perilous about this young man, and Jack believed he recognized exactly what that was: the fact that he was a relation of the Barbossa who had betrayed him and committed mutiny.

Without noticing the feelings of the three seated beneath him, Barbossa nodded to the two men flanking the prisoners. "Take them below," he ordered. Catherine then perceived that his eyes came to rest on her for the first time. Lacking in removing his gaze from hers, he halted the men. "Wait- clean the brig first," he commanded quietly.

The man to Jack's left gaped at the injustice of it. "But Cap'n, I cleaned it this mornin'!" he cried indignantly. Barbossa simply cast a cold stare in the man's direction.

"Well, clean it again. I want those cells orderly before they are occupied by our…guests." At this remark, the man growled something inaudibly about how this Barbossa was as bad as the first, and dragged the threesome down to the brig, where he and another loosed their bonds and locked them in separate cells, without bothering to straighten out the condition of the compartments. Both grumbled as they left, first sneering and chortling at Jack's predicament, glad that he was locked up once again.

After the two men had gone, Catherine strode over to size up the cell door. Arms akimbo, she judged how hard it might be to break the hinges. She then grew closer, tucking an arm up through one of the square apertures in the metal grate. Catherine grasped another section with her other hand, and tried to straighten up to break the door. Her muscles strained against the metal, utilized to the best of their ability. The door moved slightly under her attempt, but it was not enough to free her. She sighed, exasperated and went over to sit in the corner, steaming. "How are we to get out then?" she asked herself, "If that didn't work-".

"Why?" Jack asked, interrupting her, "What's the point?" Catherine turned to see him, his head leaning against the wall of the cell.

"Well, I know it sounds insane, but to tell Mother of our plans and situation," she elaborated, "We could also still head them off to the Isla del Muerto if we could only get out."

Jack thought a moment. "Now that you say it, I could go for a good rum about now." He snickered once, then closed his eyes and leaned back once more. Will rolled his eyes at his liquor-loving friend and rose to his feet. He went over to examine the cell bars. They were flat, thin steel, but exceptionally strong. Will smiled, recognizing the build of these doors. "Half-pin barrel hinges," he said to himself with an excited grin. He picked up the short stool at the corner of his cell and wedged its legs up against the bars. "With the right leverage," he said with a slight joking glare at Jack, "and proper application of strength,"

"The door will lift free!" Catherine exclaimed, jumping up from her seat on the ground. "I knew it! I knew I recognized those hinges. I just couldn't quite remember how it was that they were broken. And, I suppose," she maintained, looking out of the corner of her eye at Jack, "I did not have the proper leverage." She then did the same as her father, smiling over at him. Together, the Turners slowly but heftily used the benches as forces so that the doors lifted up and out with a sharp cracking noise.

"So he _has_ told you about that!" Jack nodded, partly eyeing Will. "I knew he could never let something such as that slip past his fine young offspring." Catherine shook her head at the man, casting her eyes upon the ceiling as she went over to free him.

"We should move," Will suggested, "The noise was probably heard up on deck." The three looked around the smallish room for inspiration, hoping a brilliant idea would come to them by staring at various areas of the floor. Jack, upon noticing a fair-sized hole in the hull of the ship, hurried over and decided that it might work as a means of escape. Calling the others over to him, he attempted to dive through the window-like opening. However, he was halfway through it when his midriff caught abruptly in the woodwork, harshly halting his departure. Will closed his eyes and placed a hand over his brow, shaking his head. Catherine, upon seeing the back half of Jack Sparrow protruding from the hull of the ship, stifled a giggle and gave him instructions as to how to free himself.

"Push your hands against the ship," she told him, the hint of slight laughter lacing her voice, "You may be able to push yourself free." Jack had a go at this proposal, shoving hard and frantically off of the thick wood.

"I'm stuck fast, mate," he called back, "It won't budge." While he lamented about his position quietly, Catherine had meanwhile been heaving against his feet in hopes that he would fall out. She felt him move forward slightly and called out to him, excited.

"Jack! I think I can get you out! Deep breath," she advised, bracing herself for a grand shove. She bent and leaned into his lower legs, and he slipped out with relative ease.

"Wha-aaaahhh!" Jack started as he fell from the side of the ship. He hit the water with a loud splash. He looked up to see that a rope was being lowered from on deck, which could only mean that Barbossa's crew had heard him fall. He sighed and grabbed the strong line and was lifted slowly from the sea back onto the ship. As he set foot back on the vessel, he thought he heard two faint splashes. At least Catherine and Will had escaped… Jack looked up to see the tall young pirate captain standing in front of him. Jack nonchalantly scratched at this nose for a moment, examining his fingertips after doing so. He then looked up into the boy's eyes again. "Back to the brig, eh?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh you're _very_ smart," Barbossa responded sarcastically, crossing his arms in front of him, "But first, I would like to speak with you in my cabin." He nodded to the men on either side of Jack, and they roughly shoved Jack towards the young man. Jack, a mildly surprised look upon his face, found his arm grabbed by Ryan and was escorted by the boy into the cabin. Once inside, they young man shut the door and then, whipping a short blade from his boot, casually slit the cords binding Jack's hands. The man looked at his newly freed hands in wonder.

"Sit down," Ryan Barbossa offered, gesturing to a chair as he sat in his own. Jack, surprised by the invitation, took a seat quickly.

"What's this all about, eh?" he asked, leaning forward to select a ripe green apple from a bowl of fruit resting in the center of the table.

Ryan cocked his head, folding his arms once more across his chest. "I wanted to know something about you," he began with a small sigh. Jack simply leaned back in his chair, slouching a little. "How is it that you had your ship taken from you in a mutiny, escaped from an island, and got the ship back only to nearly lose it again to the same men who left you to die?"

Jack tilted his head, looking to the ceiling out of the corners of his dark eyes. He acted as though he were deep in thought, assessing the question. "It was just a matter of who was a better man," he answered, a tight smile on his face, "You see, I wasn't the one who committed mutiny. I hadn't betrayed anyone. May have lied a little, put some lives on the line, but certainly I didn't go so far as to betray anyone. Barbossa - your uncle, I have come to discover - did. So, in the end, luck favors the honorable."

Ryan smiled wryly. "Yes, but I must admit, Jack, you're a less than honorable man yourself."

Jack quickly sat forward, pointing at the young man with the hand that still held the uneaten apple. "Ah, but that's where your uncle went wrong as well. I, despite the fact that I captain a pirate ship, have done nothing traitorous. Therefore, my actions are more trustworthy than the senior Barbossa's, and I am in fact an honorable man," he smiled, Ryan Barbossa's face twisting into a look of suspicious perplexity. Jack held the apple out to the young man. "Apple?" he asked, a sly grin on his dirty face.

The younger man, still oddly bewildered, leaned further back and inclined his head. "I don't like apples," he said, narrowing an eye at Jack, "Oh, and you may go. There's no point in me holding you here, as it is evident I will eventually recapture you."

Jack took a large bite from the apple. "Well, then it appears my strategy is working then," he said through the mouthful of fruit. Two escapes in as many weeks…Jack decided he might have to try his tactic more often.

Will and Catherine had just reached the Tortugan shore and were letting themselves into the back door where they had exited. Evans was sitting at the corner table once more, another full glass in front of him, as he looked around, clearly worried for his friends' safety. The two approached the young man and he breathed a sigh of relief, standing to greet the Turners. "You two gave me quite a scare; when you didn't return from being summoned by Jack, I started to worry…wait- where _is_ Jack?" Evans inquired.

Will and Catherine looked anxiously at one another. "We were hoping you could tell us," Will answered, his stomach sinking considerably.

"I haven't seen him since last night," the boy replied. Catherine pulled out a chair from the table and sat, thinking.

"He must have been recaptured," she reckoned, "Just before we departed, someone must have carried him back onboard. That may explain why we didn't see him swimming ahead of us as we neared the shore."

"But what now? What shall we do?" Will asked his daughter as he took a seat between her and Evans, "We can't just waltz onboard Barbossa's ship and take Jack. And we still have to get to the island."

Evans and Catherine looked at each other, pondering the situation. "Well, er…" Evans began, straining his mind to its maximum to come up with a plausible solution in a short amount of time. Catherine, however, simply stared down at the oaken tabletop for inspiration, and just a few seconds later, picked up her eyes and set them first on Evans, then on her father. "I think I have it," she said, a conniving smile stretching slowly across her face. Will and Evans looked at each other, mildly doubting the truth of her statement, and leaned forward to listen to the proposition. "Here's the idea: Jack is a big boy, and therefore should be able to take care of himself for awhile. I suggest we let him figure it out for the time being while we call on another ship for aid- say, the _Black Pearl_. We have them sail first to the island, leading Barbossa's ship, the _Regency_, and setting up a surprise attack for when he gets there. We will follow after his ship, just in case they attempt an escape. Also, with that setup we can fire upon Barbossa's ship if need be, boxing them in between the _Pearl_ and us. It's a fair enough solution, I should think."

Will and Evans again looked at each other, only this time open-mouthed in astonishment. They then looked to the girl, who was calmly awaiting a reaction. "How the blazes did you come up with that?" breathed Evans, amazed at the delicate strategic planning that Catherine had come up with in so short a time. Catherine smiled gently at him, always humbly acceptant of praise. Evans turned his gaze upon Will, still astounded. "Did you know your daughter possessed such a genius for strategic warfare?"

Will grinned proudly. "It's not as much genius as it is genetic. I think it's simply because she grew up living with me." The other two laughed at Will's tease, and the three set to work figuring out how to contact Anamaria and the _Black Pearl_.

"But Anamaria, you could be playing a key role in the salvation of the entire world!" Evans cried as he, Catherine, and Will tailed after the irate woman. They had managed to send word to the _Pearl_ late the evening before, and it so happened that the ship was close by. Anamaria had arrived early the next afternoon, and now the three were attempting to convince her that she should help them.

"Jack's life is on the line! You're possibly the only person who can help us help him and still win this battle. Why won't you lend a hand here?" Catherine steamed.

Anamaria whirled on the others behind her. "What is in it for me?" she inquired somewhat angrily, "Why should I sail halfway around the Caribbean for you? Besides, it was I who wanted to throw Jack off in the first place. I wouldn't voluntarily take him back with open arms." She stormed down the deck, Evans and the Turners still in hot pursuit. Evans decided to try a new ploy to get the better of Anamaria.

"He's still your captain! What do you have against just dropping him back on your ship?" the boy asked.

"Plenty," came the exasperated reply.

"And anyway," Evans continued, not missing a beat, "what about being paid in honor and pride? How can fame not be good enough for you?" While he said this, Anamaria turned once more to face her antagonists.

"No. No, no, no. You see, unlike you 'heroes' and your so-called glory, I need actual payment. I'm not Jack's servant. I deserve more than a simple thank-you," she hissed at them, "Besides, Jack should be able to take care of himself. He's gotten himself into and out of some bad scrapes. Why should this be any different?" Will sighed in annoyance, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Well, Anamaria, he's stuck in the brig on a ship run by the sixteen-year-old nephew of an evil genius who, need I remind you, was trying to kill Jack, Elizabeth, and myself not very long ago. I don't really think he's going anywhere without us."

"Oh but you forget, Mr. Turner- _I don't care_. He's 'Captain Jack Sparrow' and he can do anything. Breaking out of places is his specialty," the woman replied, sneering Jack's name mockingly. Will placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"You have a point there," he said. Catherine, outraged that her father could say such a thing about his best friend, glared at him.

"Father! Now that's not very nice," she cried admonishingly. Will smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it. Now, can we strike a bargain here, Anamaria? Hmm…let me see. If you help us, we'll…no, that won't work…um…" Catherine answered for him, having formulated this compromise as the conversation went on.

"You'll receive a portion of the profit from this venture, if any. If there is no profit, you'll get your own brand-new, Jack-free ship. We'll even name it the _Anamaria_," Catherine smiled persuasively, "What say you to that?" Anamaria rubbed her chin thoughtfully. A fair bargain Catherine presented to her. Now how to get the most out of it…

"Aye," the woman replied, "but it's on my terms."

"Fine," Catherine answered nonchalantly, "Name them." Anamaria thought for a moment.

"First, I get twenty-five percent of the total profit, if any. Second, I get my choice of ships, and you (Jack included) will commandeer it for me. Thirdly, I will have no hand in Jack's rescue. That will be completely up to you." Catherine smiled, proud that she had been able to break through to Anamaria.

"It's settled then. For the next day, we'll help you restock your ship and then we'll see you off to the island. Fair enough?" the young woman proposed. Anamaria sighed, taking account of all Catherine had promised her.

"Well," she responded tentatively.

"Please Anamaria! The fate of the world rests in your hands. If we-I mean, you- fail, the world might just end!" Evans cried, pleading with the suntanned woman. She raised her eyebrows and sighed deeply.

"I can see you're not easily shaken. All right, fine. We'll start loading tomorrow."

"Excellent," Catherine smiled.

The next afternoon saw Will, Catherine, and Evans preparing and loading their ship, the _Pursuit_, and the _Black Pearl_ for their mission. The group had spent much of the morning hours hauling crates and barrels of food, water, and other supplies to both ships, and had only recently taken a very short break to eat. Anamaria, overseeing operations on the _Pearl_, looked down approvingly on Will. "Looks good so far," she told him. Will smiled.

"Anything to get on your good side, Anamaria," he chaffed. "Catherine, how much more do we have coming?" he asked his daughter, who was just boarding the _Pursuit_ with a large sack of flour. She looked across the deck at him, thinking.

"I'd say about four more sacks of flour, a few water barrels, I think; other than that, Evans is just getting the last few pounds of salt pork. He's also trying to talk the supplier into giving us a couple extra casks of rum. Just in case, you know," she quickly added, "Worst comes to worst we have to borrow some without permission." Will nodded, stifling a chuckle.

"Sounds good. You can go back and help him out a bit."

"Alright," Catherine answered, "I'll go and let him know." With that, she disappeared below deck to stow away the flour and shortly rematerialized, only to race back up the dock and out of sight. Will had just turned back to look over a supply list with Anamaria when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of another ship. This one was smaller- too small to be Barbossa's vessel, the _Regency_. The neat white canvas sails and pristine paint job could only mean that the ship was out of Port Royal…and that meant one thing to Will. "Not Norrington, please," he pleaded with himself under his breath. The ship drew closer, docking in the hold to the immediate left of the _Pursuit_. Will held his quickening breath as he nervously awaited the appearance of someone on deck. The door to the captain's quarters opened slowly, the frosted glass blurring the figure behind it. The person stepped delicately from behind the door revealing…

"Elizabeth!" Will called, rejoicing in the emergence of his wife. His gentle face broke into a beaming smile as he rushed over to greet her. Elizabeth quickly departed her ship, coming over to board the _Pursuit_. Picking up her skirts in one fluid, ladylike motion, she approached her husband boldly. "Thank heaven it's you," Will sighed, reaching for her, "I've missed you, my dearest Elizabeth." However, his wife obviously did not return the emotion. Instead of embracing her spouse, her soft white hand flew sharply across his smiling face, throwing him off balance.

"_Mister_ William Turner, what were you _thinking_?" Elizabeth howled at Will, watching him regain his footing. He began to explain, but before he could manage two words, he was slapped again. "You run off unexpectedly; no note, no goodbye, no 'oh by the way, I'm taking my _daughter_ on another insane mission with Jack!'" she continued, "Whatever happened between us?"

"We had children," Will answered wryly, rubbing his cheek.

"We really need to start telling each other things," Elizabeth sighed. Just then, Catherine and Evans appeared, running up the dock to board the Pursuit, each carrying a small crate filled with rum bottles. Both were haggard and breathless as they approached Will, setting down the crates.

"Father, we had to borrow them. Evans couldn't-" Catherine broke off upon sighting her mother, who was staring at her daughter through narrowed eyes. "Hello, Mother! Fancy meeting you on a day like…today," Catherine cleared her throat, hoping for the best. Just as Catherine foresaw, Elizabeth took a swipe at her face. Catherine, however, was ready. She ducked swiftly, dodging the blow, and straightened quickly, a smile of pride on her fair face. Her grin was wiped off by a second smack from Elizabeth, which sent her spinning. As Evans bent down to help her, Elizabeth looked down on them, thunderstruck. She quickly regained her composure though, and straightened her skirts. "Catherine," she began properly, "may I see you and your father in the cabin, please?" With that, Elizabeth tossed her head to get the long lock of coffee-brown hair out of her eyes and herded the confused pair into the captain's quarters. Allowing the two others to enter first, Elizabeth shut the door with a gentle click and glided over to stand behind the seat on the far side of the desk. "Have a seat, please," she offered, gesturing to two chairs near the desk. Will and Catherine did so, and pulled the seats in closer to the writing desk as they pondered the fate that awaited them. Will leaned in a little closer to Catherine as Elizabeth closed her eyes, preparing her arguments.

"Whatever happened to your mother to make her so calm in such a short time probably won't last long. Keep your wits about you," he whispered, audible only to Catherine. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had taken a seat and began running her fingers through her long hair. Finally she sat still, taking a deep breath and looking from her daughter to her husband.

"Do you know…how worried I was…when I found out…you were gone?" she paced herself, trying not to lose control. Both Will and Catherine began to explain, their words falling upon deaf ears. Elizabeth silenced them with a quick glance, and then stood up. She began pacing around the room anxiously while her tone grew frustrated and erratic. "Not to mention you left Norrington without a trace of dignity, you steal a navy vessel, and you never even tell me why! I don't know what to do about you two anymore." She strode back to her seat, sitting back down. Will shifted a bit in his seat like a child being reprimanded.

"Um, it's 'commandeered.' We didn't _steal_ it exactly, just sort of borrowed it without permission or intention of returning it. Besides, we _were_ going to let you know. The thought was there, we just didn't know how you'd take it." Elizabeth glared at him. Without taking her eyes off Will, she spoke again.

"Catherine, out," she menaced, still giving Will a hard stare.

"But Mum," Catherine began.

"OUT!!" Elizabeth shouted, pointing to the door fiercely. Catherine rose and slowly made her way to the door. She cast a sympathetic look back at her father before stepping beyond the threshold.

"Good luck, Father," she said softly. She quickly exited the cabin, emerging with her eyes downcast. It was only when she looked up that she saw Evans helping a dripping Jack clamor onboard. Catherine sped over to aid him, and once Jack was on his feet, she looked at him in wonder. "How did you get off the ship? I thought Ryan Barbossa recaptured you," Catherine quipped, stunned still at the sudden arrival of her "uncle." Jack, having not invented a better answer, paced up the deck a bit. He turned around to face Catherine with his eyebrows raised in feigned shock.

"Catherine, did you not notice? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he shrugged with a roguish smile. He made as if to say more, but was cut off by the sound of smashing porcelain. Will suddenly appeared from within the cabin, panting heavily as he swung the doors shut as fast as he could. The other three rushed to see what was wrong with the sweating Will as he stood with his back against the entrance.

"Marital troubles, Will?" Jack asked indifferently as Evans hustled over to one of the crates he and Catherine brought onboard earlier. The boy selected one of the bottles from inside and handed it to Will.

"I swear, that woman is going to kill me someday," he shook his head, still breathless, "One minute she's professing her undying love for me, the next she's trying to strangle me."He took a long sip from the bottle and sighed, "I need a break." As soon as the words escaped Will's mouth, the doors to the cabin opened, causing everyone nearby to turn sharply in surprise. Elizabeth emerged, as proper-looking as before; the only thing about her that betrayed her anger and frustration was that her long, wavy brown hair was loose and a few hairs stuck out at odd angles from the top of her head. She managed a smile, folding her hands behind her back primly as she looked towards Catherine. The girl circled her head around, trying hard to avoid her mother's gaze. Catherine suddenly glanced back at Elizabeth, acting as though she had only just noticed that her mother was looking at her. "Catherine?" Elizabeth began in a benevolent voice which Catherine immediately knew meant trouble for her, "may I see you and…" she broke off, indicating Evans. The boy stepped forward with a small smile.

"Evans," he supplied, giving Elizabeth his name.

"Evans," Elizabeth repeated, casting a faux smile back at him, "back in the cabin, please?" As she finished her request, Evans made as if to follow the woman into the cabin. However, Will and Catherine, both of whom gave him warning looks, stayed him. "I would wait," Will advised, "It's not so good an idea to follow her when she's in one of her moods." Once Will and Catherine had seen that Elizabeth was safely inside the cabin and that Evans was well out of harm's reach, they let him go. "Best go now and get it over with. I'll have rum ready for both of you when you return," Will sighed.

The pair entered the cabin to find Elizabeth sitting calmly behind the desk awaiting their arrival. As Evans went to sit down, Catherine remained beside the door, leaning against it in anticipation of what was to come. Elizabeth took a breath and spoke.

"Catherine, may I ask you something?" she inquired. Her daughter shifted in her place and averted her eyes to look up at the ceiling.

"Yes, Mother," she answered with an anxious sigh.

"Does this excite you, what you're doing?" Elizabeth queried, shooting the occasional annoyed glance at the unsuspecting Evans. Catherine feinted deep thought.

"Well, uh, yes. Yes it does." Elizabeth leaned forward, looking at her still-standing daughter severely.

"Do you not realize that what you are doing is something completely reckless, destructive, and dangerous?" she posed, her tone growing louder.

"Yes, Mother. I'm not thick. That's what I like about it- the danger, the excitement. In case you haven't taken the time to notice, I actually enjoy piracy," the girl answered, striding over to stand before the desk. Elizabeth sighed in exasperation.

"I know," she said through her moan. Finally, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. "You are excused- both of you."

Catherine, taking Evans' hand, quickly escorted him out the cabin, bewildered that her mother hadn't taken her head off. Once the two had made it safely out of the cabin, Catherine strode over to Will, Evans trailing shortly behind. She saw that her father was now leaning against the mainmast, conversing with Jack and Gibbs, who had come over to the _Pursuit_ from his and Elizabeth's ship, about their plans.

"Alright," Jack started, talking to Will, Evans, and Gibbs, "we need a change of plans. We're going to send Anamaria off to the island and then we'll…" he trailed off expectantly, hoping one of his counterparts would supply the rest.

"We're going to lead off Barbossa to the island and let Catherine, well, do what she's supposed to do," Will finished Jack's statement for him. Catherine selected an apple from within a barrel beside the ship's wall and strode over to the group, curious as to what they were discussing.

"_What_ am I supposed to do?" she inquired, betraying her presence to the foursome as she bit into the fruit. Jack nudged Will sharply.

"Well," Jack whispered loudly, "say something!" Will was at a loss for words, not wanting to tell his daughter the full truth.

"Like what?" he hissed back.

"Go ahead, tell her what she's supposed to do," came the reply. Catherine sighed in exasperation and pushed into the center of the group.

"Would someone _please_ just tell me what's going on?" she persisted, somewhat frustrated with the lot of them.

Will looked at Jack and Gibbs nervously, and the three men led Catherine over to an alcove near the cabin, Evans shortly in tow. The five of them sat down as Catherine sighed, "Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what the hell is going on?" she posed to the small congregation. Gibbs, being the only one who knew the full story, shifted in place so he was leaning closer to the girl. He took a deep breath and began his short narration.

"Now, when your father lifted the curse sixteen years ago- I'm sure you've heard _that_ story as many times as there are leagues across the ocean- we had no idea that, although the curse was lifted, it could be reinstated so to speak. You see, the pirates could have taken the gold from the chest again and the curse would again be upon them. The only difference is that now that it has been removed once, the curse would last only until the holder lost possession of the gold piece. If he so much as dropped it, he would turn back to normal. Jack and I also learned that every thirteen years, the Isla de Muerta is reclaimed by the sea, to remain beneath the surface fer only thirteen years. At the end of that thirteen years, the sea spits the Isla back out, and it stays out fer another thirteen years before it sinks again."

Catherine narrowed her eyes, not entirely understanding the story. "Hold on – let me get this straight. So what happens is the island is out for thirteen years. At the end of _those_ thirteen years, the island is reclaimed by the sea and is underwater for _another_ thirteen years. Right?"

"Right," Gibbs responded.

Catherine nodded. "And then it comes back out, doing the whole process over again?"

Gibbs nodded in reply. "Exactly."

"Okay, back to the story," Catherine grinned.

The man chuckled. "Alright. So, we – Jack and meself – found out that Captain Barbossa's survivin' crew have recently discovered his nephew, Ryan, and made him captain of their commandeered ship. Now they're lookin' for Master Will and maybe even you. You wonder why? This is because they want the curse to stay, shall we say…_available_ for other seascum to fall under its power. See, they think that if they deserved to be cursed, then _all_ pirates deserve it. The reason they're lookin' for you and your father is because you two are the only ones who stand in the way of them leavin' the treasure cursed. Here's the situation; one of you with Turner blood has to battle the blood of the one who died when the curse was lifted."

"Barbossa," Catherine connected, interrupting Gibbs.

"Barbossa," he repeated, nodding. "What we have to do now is get to the island so you can lure-" Gibbs was abruptly halted by Will, who began shouting in a fashion that Catherine was sure her mother would be proud of.

"What?! I will not have my daughter play temptress to that evil son of- no, _nephew_ of a filthy liar whose only purpose in life was to put an end to the entire Turner line!" he cried. Jack put an arm around Will to calm him down.

"Don't worry, Will. We have it under control. She's only going to get Barbossa into the cave and probably fight him to the death. What is there to be worried about?" Jack posed. As Gibbs continued informing Catherine and Evans of their mission, Jack, his arm still around Will's shoulders, led him to a different sector of the deck.

"Will," Jack began, "There's something I must ask before we do this. Are you going to let your daughter engage in piracy or not?" Will looked at his friend as his stomach sank. "She's a big girl, Will. If you want her to and she wants to have a future as a pirate, it's high time you let her grow up. And if you're going to do that every time she has a new mission, then I'm afraid we're going to have to start leaving you be'ind, mate." Will gazed at Jack in stoic silence, mentally weighing the options while already knowing what he was going to choose. "So," Jack continued, "Are you going to let Catherine take her first mission as a pirate, or are you not?" Will smiled and sighed.

"You're right, Jack. Let's go back and tell her the good news." Jack nodded and the two men paced back over to Gibbs and Catherine, who had moved back into the open near the mainmast. Evans had gone up in the rigging to se what was going on around Barbossa's ship. Gibbs looked up and saw that Jack and Will had rejoined them.

"Ah- Jack, Will. We were waitin' for ye. So here's what's goin' ter happen. When we get ter the island, Catherine 'ere is goin' ter get Barbossa into the cave. That's when we'll ambush him an' his crew. While we're distractin' the crew, you- Will an' Catherine, that is- fight Barbossa. Once he's dead, we'll finish off the crew an' sail 'ome," Gibbs finished. Catherine stared at the wooden floorboards and sighed. She paused; digesting the information presented to her, and raised her eyebrows.

"Well, thank you," she said, "Just one thing, though; how do we know that we'll win, Ryan Barbossa will…die, and everything will work out as planned?" Gibbs furrowed his bushy grey eyebrows and thought.

"Well, er, because…" he faded, unsure of the answer.

"Because we've got you, me, Will, Evans, and Gibbs," Jack answered confidently, "Trust me, I know these dogs. They don't stand a chance against us."

Catherine grinned, shaking her head at her friend. "Jack, I'll just take your word for it."

Suddenly, Evans swung down from the rigging, landing with a thud on the deck. He rushed over to Will, panting heavily. "Will…Ryan…the ship! They- they're leaving!" the boy burst out, trying to regain his breath. Will took the gasping young man by the shoulders as the others gathered around him.

"Evans, calm down. Now, what about Barbossa?"

"They're leaving!!" he cried, pointing sharply over to the rapidly departing _Regency_. The group scattered, each trying to get the _Pursuit_ ready to move as quickly as possible. Will shouted across to Anamaria, who had also spotted the departure of the _Regency_. "Get your ship to Isla de Muerta as quickly as possible and set up the trap. All you need to do is guarantee that you arrive before they do. Good thing the _Pearl_ is fast. We'll see you there!" he called to the woman.

Meanwhile, Catherine and Evans had clambered up into the rigging to deal with the sails. As the two worked, they exchanged some small talk.

"So, is this exciting or what?" Evans joked.

"Well, it is better than sitting at home getting yelled at by my mother," Catherine countered with a slight chuckle. Evans thought as he untangled a rope line.

"Oh, about that. Why does she do that to you and Will?" he asked, "It all seems a little unjust."

"Oh, well, she just doesn't really understand, I guess," the girl answered with a shrug, "I must say I don't think that even Father being a pirate has entirely converted her to our way of thinking."

Evans laughed and spun in the rigging to check another line on the other side. However, he twisted too fast and became entangled in the ropes. The line swayed back and forth uncontrollably. Catherine reached out to help him stop, but in doing so, ended up pulling him too close. Their faces landed not an inch from each other; that was the first time Catherine really noticed how deep and impenetrable Evans' eyes were. Their moss green color took the girl on a mental journey, far away from the _Pursuit_, the ocean, and the world to a serene forest; a peaceful place where no one could yell at her or force her into their way of thinking. She shook her head trying to get rid of the feeling and turned her head in embarrassment while Evans did the same. Both smiled, a mixture of awkwardness and nerves radiating from each. At that moment, the two heard a shout from the deck. "All hands to the deck!" they heard Jack call from his place in front of the cabin. His sword was out with its point stuck in the wood near his foot, allowing him to rest his bent elbow on the hilt. The few original people who were on the ship, with the exception of Elizabeth, and some recruits they had picked up just that morning in Tortuga all raced to answer Jack's summons. While Evans sought to climb gently down the ropes, Catherine took a single loose line in her hands and smiled at him.

"Come on," she winked at him, "This will be fun!" With that, she leapt off the rigging and sailed down through the air to land smartly on the deck below. Evans, hardly wanting to be outdone, grabbed a second rope and leapt after her, hitting the deck shortly after her. Once everyone was assembled in front of Jack, he scanned an appraising eye across the collection, scrutinizing each and every one in turn. "Now," he began after a moment's silence, "my wonderful crew- I am sure- let me lay down the process for all those who have not previously heard, and for those who have…let me refresh your memories. By this time, Anamaria and her crew have commenced leading Barbossa and _his_ crew to the famed island that holds the cursed treasure. Our job is to get to that island, blow up his ship, kill his crew, kill him, _and_ banish the curse by the full moon. This occurs by my calculations in, oh…three weeks." This comment sent a murmur of unsettlement through the small crowd. Jack cleared his throat, silencing them.

Catherine thought a moment, then stepped forward, Evans by her side. "It's going to be one hell of a ride trying to get there in three weeks, and that's not considering storms, windless days, and Norrington. Count on him to show up unexpectedly," the girl sighed in half exasperation, half reluctance, "but I'm with you all the way!" she took hold of Jack's hand in her strong grip and shook it briefly in assent, a mischievous grin plastered across her fair features. Evans leaned forward to join her next to Jack and clasped his hand in turn. "I may sound insane for saying this," the boy shook his head, "but I'm with you too. Heaven knows you'll need someone with a little sense on this trip," he said, smiling at Catherine.

Gibbs approached Jack next. "You're all daft," he shrugged. He put his hand in Jack's with a grin, "You can count me in."

"Well, it seems I have no choice," Will sighed with a roguish smirk as he took Jack's hand, "I don't want to miss all the fun."

One by one, the few remaining crewmembers milled in and cast in their lot with Jack. Will, Catherine, Evans, and Gibbs moved away to make room for the rest and traversed over to the ship wall near the cabin door. As the four laughed and shared ideas about the oncoming journey, no one gave a thought to Elizabeth. That is, until she emerged from the cabin. The door opened suddenly, causing Jack to lurch forward in surprise. Out came Elizabeth, an overstuffed carpetbag in hand. Jack studied her for a second as Will arrived to see what was going on.

"Where are _you_ going?" Jack inquired, studying the bag through narrowed eyes.

"I am leaving," Elizabeth huffed, brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she struggled with the weight of the carpetbag, "and I am going home." She then looked up, determining how far it was to the other side of the ship, and set a course for the opposite edge. Will was not far behind, swiftly catching up with his determined wife.

"You can't go," he implored, "You just got here. We need you." Elizabeth gave him a stare that instantly told Will that she thought he had just said the stupidest thing she had ever heard in her life.

"I _know_. That's why I'm leaving," she answered shrewdly. Upon seeing the look of desperation on Will's face, she sighed at him and looked to the sky for a moment. "Every time we go on one of your little 'adventures,' I end up getting kidnapped, marooned, injured, and shot at. Do you _really_ think that I'm going to stick around only for all that to happen again?" Will lowered his shoulders in mock defeat, glancing behind him surreptitiously. He turned back to look at his wife, keeping a small smile hidden as he gazed at her.

"Dear Elizabeth, I do believe there is but one slight issue barring the fulfillment of your splendid plan," he said mournfully to her.

"And what would that be?" came the response. Will looked behind him once more and gestured for her to look as well. Elizabeth approached the side of the ship and looked over the side. What met her eyes was the island of Tortuga, slowly shrinking into the horizon. As she sighed in exasperation, Will strolled forward, hands clasped behind his back.

"Well, I guess you're stuck with us," he muttered, not allowing his wife to see the broad grin pasted across his face. Jack, upon hearing Will's comment, rushed forward to throw an arm around Elizabeth's delicate shoulders.

"Splendid!" Jack exclaimed right into Elizabeth's face, which turned and quailed form the rancid smell, "you're coming with us! I always knew you had it in you. Ah, those were the days; sailing, your wonderful ideas to outwit Barbossa senior, that marvelous day and a half we were marooned on that island together-"

Elizabeth grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him mercilessly closer to her, a malicious look across her face. "I _never_ want to hear of that episode _again_," she hissed at him threateningly. She then let his go and waltzed up the ship's length to stand on the quarterdeck. Jack swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck. "Scary," he said to Will, who stood looking down at his friend in sympathy, "How has she not killed you yet?"

Catherine and Evans approached the pair then to check their status. "What was that all about?" the girl asked Jack as she stepped out of Elizabeth's way. His eyes widened slightly.

"Nothing I'm sure you haven't experienced," he answered, then sauntered off down the deck, leaving Evans, Catherine, and Will to themselves.

"I would like you two up in the rigging, please," Will instructed his charges, "If you see anything strange or if Barbossa does something unexpected, let me know immediately."

Catherine and Evans nodded with a smile to Will and set to scaling the high rope lines. It did not take them long to reach a spot elevated enough to get a good view all around; they reached it within the minute and anchored themselves in the rope. After briefly scanning the horizon once, they decided that their time together should not be lost to silence.

"So, what's your story?" asked Catherine after several minutes of quiet. Evans looked at her questioningly, curious as to her meaning. "I mean about you. How did you get to be a part of Jack Sparrow's crew, of all people?"  
The boy thought a moment, an almost melancholy cloud hanging over him. "Well," he began, "I don't remember much of my parents and early childhood. What I do remember is that my mother was barely home and my father was a harsh man with a reputation for cruelty. He often came home drunk and beat my mother and me sometimes. When I was twelve, I was shanghaied onto a ship bound for Barcelona; I later found out that my father had a large hand in my deportment. While I was on that ship, the captain and crew were kind enough to teach me in the ways of reading, writing, arithmetic, astronomy, and seafaring. I think I learned more from them than anyone else could have taught me.

"When we arrived in Barcelona, I was unfortunately transferred onto another ship that would take me to the Caribbean for the first time. It was then that I learned of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. By this time, I was almost fifteen and had the knowledge and leadership skills of a seasoned sailor, and knew enough to be taken seriously by twelve men who became my 'crew.' I had decided to set a course for the Caribbean once more in search of Jack and try to take up with him."

Catherine smiled, knowing her friend well. "I take it he was your role model? If you had known then what you know now…" she joked. Evans laughed.

"If only," he continued, "Anyway, I had heard that his travels centered on Port Royal and Tortuga. We headed there, and it was in a Tortugan bar on my fifteenth birthday that I met Jack Sparrow; he got me drunk enough to make a deal with him that if I sailed under his colors, he would buy me another round to share. I've been with him ever since."

Catherine chuckled at the unsurprising tale. "Not quite the life I'd expect from someone half as remarkable as you, but I guess it fits," she smiled at her friend.

"What?" Evans inquired, unsure of what his friend had said.

"Oh…nothing."

By now, Evans was fully interested. "No, really. What did you say?"

"You really want to know?" Catherine looked at him dubiously. At this remark, Evans smiled and nodded insistently. Catherine sighed and shifted in the ropes. "Evans, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were, well, different- but a good kind of different. You're the first person this has ever happened to me before with. And I just wanted to-" The sound of Will's voice echoed over the deck, floating up to the pair and breaking the tense moment. Both of them cast their eyes down to the deck, where they saw Will standing at the foot of the ratlines, returning their gaze.

"I suppose we'd better go down and see what he wants, then?" Catherine posed to Evans, keeping her brown eyes on her father. The two began their descent, and shortly after found themselves on deck with Will in front of them, arms akimbo. The two charges nodded respectfully to Will, who followed suit and explained why he had summoned them.

"Catherine, I need to see you in the cabin. There are some charts I would like you to help me navigate. Evans," he continued, nodding to the boy, "I would like you to go below and help Jack check the stores. Make sure all is in order and Jack doesn't take full advantage of our liquor supply. I think you can handle that?" Will inquired with a smile. Evans assented; returning the smile, he threw a smart salute and went down the deck to the stairs that led to the storage area. Catherine watched willfully after him as he disappeared beneath the deck. Will caught his daughter's look of longing and gently touched her hand, leading her into the cabin and shutting the door behind him. The pair sat at opposite sides of the small table, Will staring at his daughter intently as she pulled a large, worn map closer to her. He stayed her hand, and she started in surprise as she looked up at him. "Don't let it fool you now," he advised, "you'll know when to say something. Now just wasn't the opportune moment that must be waited for." He withdrew his hand and Catherine stared suspiciously at him.

"Hold on!" she exclaimed, still gazing at her father.

"What?"

"You really think I like Evans?" she inquired bewilderedly, even though she knew it was true. Will raised his eyebrows at her, showing that her interest in the boy was obvious. Quickly changing the subject, Catherine drew the sea chart closer. As she studied it for a moment in silence, her activated mind began to wander. "Father?" she asked with a sigh.

"Yes?" came the answer.

"Why is it that you denied being the son of a pirate? You were insistent that, although you yourself knew it, that he was not what everyone said. How is it that Jack changed your mind?"

Will thought for a moment, his dark eyes creeping up to the ceiling. "I never wanted to believe that my father was a pirate because I didn't want to end up with the same fate many pirates had met. I felt that if he were a pirate, that must mean I was as well. I as afraid to become the feared and hated thing that my father had been."

Catherine narrowed her eyes at Will. "But I would never say that you were something you weren't. How could you deny your own father like that? I'm proud of you. How could you not feel the same about your own father?"

"Catherine, I know you have pride in me. I am glad that you feel that way. However, when I was your age and even as I grew older I just held some grudge against my father's chosen path.

"Anyway, it's a funny story, how Jack persuaded me to change my mind about my father. He turned the ship we were on sharply so that the end of the mast swung into me. The only choice I had was to hang on since I was hanging over the water.

" 'Now'1, Jack says to me, 'I could let you drown. But I can't bring this ship into Tortuga by meself, savvy? And you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can't. Now,' said Jack, turning the ship once more so I was thrown to the deck. He held out my sword. 'Can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?' I agreed. Naturally there were points when I still insisted that I would never become a pirate myself, but more and more often I realized it was true- I really did have the makings of a pirate. And, as you well know, that was it. That adventure helped me find that piracy was, in fact, my destiny."

Catherine smiled at her father's genuineness and overt adoration of his daughter. "And then you married Mother, took over the shop, sailed for a few years with Jack, and then settled down and had me, Victoria, Michael, and James. Right?"

Will raised his eyebrows, rolling his eyes. "Well, it didn't exactly work out that way, but it worked out," he joked with a slight chuckle. At that moment, Elizabeth burst in, rapidly brushing her long, coffee-colored hair with an ivory comb. She paused for a moment, realizing that her spouse and daughter were sitting there.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice lacking a fully apologetic tone, "I didn't realize you were in here. I'll just come back once you're finished." As she opened the door to leave, Catherine turned to stop her, but found that Elizabeth had already left. What she didn't know was that Elizabeth was really only just outside the door, listening through the slightly open way. She heard the rustling of papers as Catherine and Will resumed their previous conversation.

"Let's review what you and I have to do to complete this mission; I just want to get it straight and make sure I know exactly what's going on," Elizabeth heard her daughter's voice say, "If you feel we need to, we can paraphrase if you like."

Will then took over the conversation, after the sound of his chair scraping against the floor ceased. "Alright, Anamaria is now harassing Barbossa either to get to or already at the island. We are on our way there now. When we arrive at the island, a party will stay on the ship to fight some of the crew and make sure they don't steal the ship. You, Jack, Gibbs, your mother (hopefully) and I will go into the cave, where we will fight. While everyone else is battling his crew, you and I – or one or the other – will fight Ryan Barbossa to the death."

Elizabeth, still outside the cabin door, shook her head in argument, this being the first time she heard the plan. "No," she whispered to her self, rising from out of her crouched position to burst into the room. "I will not put my sixteen-year-old daughter's life in danger because of yours and Jack's selfish needs!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at her husband. Will, however, simply crossed his arms in front of him and stared boldly up at her, riding out the storm. Elizabeth continued, not missing a beat. "I don't care if you want to get even with some brat nephew of an evil genius, just keep my children out of it! I, for one, care for the safety of my daughter, and want to preserve that last speck of hope that she will amount to something someday. I would like it if you helped me with that."

Catherine's jaw dropped at her mother's comment. "Amount to something?" she questioned roughly, standing and pushing her chair aside, "How could you say such a thing? You're my mother. I don't see how you can possess the audacity, as my _mother_, to say that I won't amount to anything. It's very nice and al that you care for my safety, but to go and say that I have no purpose is crossing the line as a parent." Feeling hot tears prick the back of her eyes, Catherine put on her game face and stalked over to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go and figure out my point in the world now." She slammed the door behind her, exiting onto the dusk-splashed deck with her head in one hand. Evans, hearing the door slam from the quarterdeck, rushed down to see what was going on. Seeing Catherine entering the corner adjacent to the cabin, he raced after her in concern. "Catherine, what's the matter?" he asked sincerely.

She swallowed her tears and brushed a hand across her eyes, trying to hide her emotion. "It's nothing. I just…got into a little argument with my mother," she replied. Evans knelt down and looked up into his friend's eyes sorrowfully. He reached up gently and with his thumbs, wiped her chocolate-colored eyes from the tears.

"Catherine, please tell me what is wrong. I just want to help you," he lamented, his warm hands still embracing her tearstained face. She gazed down in unanticipated love, staunching fresh water from leaving her eyes.

"It was just a comment my mother made. She just doesn't understand that I have found my calling. I know what I want to do with my life, and instead of being open and approving of my decision, she thinks that I am throwing my life away. I just want her to know me for who I am and accept my choices," Catherine explained, feeling relieved at letting her emotions out.

Evans smiled softly at his friend and stood slowly, extending a kind hand down to her. "How about you come with me. I think I know what will help you get your mind off things," he offered. Catherine, deciding that she just wanted to be with him for a while, gave a small smile and took his hand. The pair then walked back down towards the quarterdeck, taking it at a leisurely pace, both eager for more time together.

Back in the cabin, Elizabeth sat, rubbing her temples and letting her thoughts drain slowly. She was alone with Will again. At last she could voice what she had been thinking since she discovered that he and Catherine had left. But to find the right words…she sighed, deciding on how to begin the conversation before taking the plunge.

"Will?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?" he responded, in a similar tone.

"When did you stop loving me?" Elizabeth inquired, biting her lip to refrain from crying. Even though she knew it was hard to say to the husband who she knew adored her, she had had this on her mind for quite some time and could not hold it in any longer. Will turned his head to avoid her gaze and thought about this question.

"Elizabeth, never once in my entire life did I question my love for you. Why would you say that I am capable of stopping now?" he replied, his voice dripping with honest melancholy.

Silent tears rolled softly down her cheek as she continued. "Will, if you really love me, why do you do this to me? Why do you make me wait for you? You leave to fool around with Jack for months sometimes, rarely let me know why you go, and return without a word of what you did. It's as though you're involved in an affair with piracy. When we were younger it was all right, I would be eager to go with you. But now we have children. Children who need looking after. We can't both be off miles away from them without leaving them in someone's care. "

Will rose, unable to sit in front of her any longer. He slunk over to lean forward against the threshold, the only real tear he'd ever shed in his life slowly descending his smooth face.

"I really want to talk to you, Will," Elizabeth said, "I just never really have a chance. Now you must decide. Are you willing to start over with me and make up, or will you choose your other love? I want you to make a decision…for me. You are the love of my life, and I don't want to lose that." She stood gradually, waltzing over to her husband and laying a gentle kiss upon his cheek.

"Elizabeth!" Will called softly, taking her arm in his hand. He pulled her into him, and they kissed, long and lovingly, the way they had so many times before, so long ago it seemed now.

The sun sank slowly beneath the horizon, turning the skies pastel hues of pink, orange, and purple, finally giving way to the inky velvet blanket of night coated with shimmering stars. Catherine and Evans had been up on the quarterdeck on lookout for some time, talking jovially and enjoying each other's presence.

"So, Evans, how old are you?" Catherine asked, leaning against the railing.

The boy smiled at her. "Seventeen and a half. I'll be eighteen in September," he replied.

Catherine sighed and looked out over the ocean. She breathed deeply the spray from the sea, savoring the taste of it. "Evans, what is it about the ocean that you love so much? Why are we drawn to it like this? It's an obsession, a driving force behind pirates that causes us to always return, whether we want to or not."

"For me, the sea is my life," Evans replied, joining her against the rail and leaning a little over the side, "It's the only real home I've ever lived on. The ocean is everything to me. I just feel a sense of – I don't know…is it gratefulness? It's like my family, my life, and my dream, all wrapped into one."

Catherine closed her eyes, picturing the daylight hours on the rolling waters; waves swelling up and down as they gently rock the ship, scattered gulls wheeling overhead. "Since I was born, I have always dreamed of the ocean. My father would tell me the same stories over and over again, but every time they would be different. Some element would change, and that was what I loved about hearing them. It would make me want more; make me long for the day I would finally get to sail with him and Jack. Now that I have that chance, it's almost unreal. And you being here with me… it just makes it all the better." She laid her head gently on Evans' shoulder, and he smiled and took her hands. She looked up and they stood a little apart, gazing into each other's eyes. Evans sighed.

"You know, the same thing goes for me," he agreed. They slowly drew closer, not wanting to affect the gentility of the moment, and just before their lips touched, a voice rang out just at the top of the quarterdeck stairs.

"There you two are!" Jack Sparrow said, rushing towards the pair and shattering the effect. Catherine and Evans stepped back a little, trying to hide their actions.

"What is it now, Jack?" Catherine sighed, averting her eyes from his.

"Well, dear Catherine," Jack replied, "I was hoping to share a drink and first watch with you, but as you are previously engaged-"

Catherine, exasperated, stayed his departure. "Well, now that you've got my attention, I might as well take you up on your offer."

"Splendid!" came the response, "I'll meet you on the other end, then." And with that, he started off for the opposite end of the ship.

Catherine smiled and rolled her eyes, turning back to Evans. "Privacy," she shrugged, "Yet another thing you learn to deal without when you're a pirate." As she moved to leave, she felt a soft, brief touch on her cheek. Although she knew it could have been anything, a rustle of the breeze or the motion of clothing, her heart still fluttered excitedly as she strode silently down to where she would meet Jack. Catherine reached the other side of the _Pursuit_ in a matter of minutes and sat down near the fore end of the ship where Jack was waiting for her with two bottles of rum. "To last until at least midnight," Jack explained, handing the girl one. The two drank in silence for a while, pondering whether or not the other was up for discussion. Finally, Jack could hold out no longer, and rotating the bottle in his hand, opened the floor. "So, I've noticed that Evans seems to take a liking to you," he said, his eyes cast towards the wooden deck, "Either that or you take a liking to him."

Catherine, somewhat annoyed at how everyone had begun to treat her, scowled with a sigh. "Jack, please. He's just a really good friend. Since when has a girl being just friends with a boy become unreasonable?"

Jack gave her a look that told her he would not easily be shaken. "Am I expected to believe that you, who makes it so obvious, do not fancy Evans? Catherine, you are so like your father it frightens me. When he was just a few years older than yourself, he did the same thing with your mother. It was so clear that he loved her, but he wouldn't tell her. No…but you yourself know that not only do you love him; he loves you back. Catherine, I don't want to see you let a good thing like Evans get away from you," Jack said.

Catherine sighed and took a long, reflective drink. She swallowed, thinking. "Jack, what do you think about me? Everyone has different opinions, but I never really found out anyone's true feelings other than my mother's. With her near disappointment of me, I just can't help but feel I'm letting you all down. So what is your opinion?"

"Catherine," Jack answered, "I think that you have a lot of potential. As I have said numerous times, you are the very image of your father, and if that continues, I know you will be as successful as he is. You are a very strong person, and it's because of your strength that Elizabeth is disappointed. If you stick to what you think of yourself, in time I think you can sway even her. I am very proud to have you on my ship."

Catherine smiled. "Jack, I believe that is the first sentimental thing you have ever said to me. I'm gratified to know you think that." With that, the two lapsed back into silence, waiting out the night.

The late hours of the night faded slowly into the grey hours of the morning, the sun having not yet lit the sky with dawn. Jack and Catherine were still where they had been the night before; Jack was slumped over in untidy sleep. Catherine, however, was alert and restless, awaiting something, anything to happen. The girl rose and looked over the ocean through a brass spyglass. Scanning the dark horizon, Catherine caught sight of a long, thin smudge resting on the line that separated ground from sky. She lowered the spyglass, narrowing her eyes. "How can it be?" she whispered to herself, staring at the smudge. She roused Jack and bid him take a look.

"What? What?" he grumbled, standing and taking the proffered glass. He put it to his eye as Catherine pointed out the location. "Wait- that can't…well, at least we've caught up to Anamaria and Barbossa," Jack muttered to himself. Catherine strained her eyes and noticed two tiny white pinpricks against the blot, which could only be the two ships. Jack handed his companion the spyglass and left her to seek out Gibbs, Evans, and Will. Catherine sighed, now alone on the side of the deck, and gazed out at the rapidly nearing coastline. The sun was now beginning to rise, the pale orange light accentuating the outline of the island.

Just then, Jack and the rest dashed up beside her, all looking at the land. Gibbs took Catherine's spyglass and cast it out towards the strip of land. "That can't be the Isla del Muerta," he said, still looking through the glass, "it takes much longer to get there, and the outline is different."

"They must have been delayed," Evans concluded, producing his own scope.

"Makes sense," Gibbs agreed, "I always said it was bad luck to have a woman on board, especially in charge. Now she's just proven it- Anamaria got 'erself stuck."

Catherine cast an icy glare at him, offended by the comment. Gibbs hurriedly recognized his error. "Well, I mean, I didn't mean you. If it weren't for your help, we'd probably be somewhere in Tortuga still, trying to think up a plan." Catherine, shaking off her initial annoyance, put her eye to the glass a final time and stalked off to aid her other friends in their preparations for landing.

That evening, Will, Evans, Catherine, and the others had successfully pulled the _Pursuit_ neatly beside the _Black Pearl_. From the deck, Anamaria caught sight of Will, Jack, Catherine and the rest, who were departing their ship to join their friend "What are _you_ doing here?" she inquired sharply after they arrived on deck of the _Pearl_, "I thought I told you I could handle Barbossa myself."

Jack grinned roguishly at her. "Actually, Anamaria, you never did say that," he replied, laying an audacious hand upon her thin shoulder. Anamaria pushed it off in disgust and glared at him.

"Just because you- well, let's not let your little mistake get your head swelled. I'm still not happy about it, and I don't want you getting any more ideas," she sneered. Will, Catherine, Gibbs, and Evans looked at each other in confusion, not knowing what their friends were talking about. Jack reached up to finger a lock of Anamaria's thick dark hair, but she slapped him away unceremoniously. He then sauntered off down the deck, obviously in search of some form of strong liquor, and leaving the rest to converse.

"Why did you come?" Anamaria continued to Will, "We both know that I could have done it myself."

Will raised an eyebrow. "You amaze me, Anamaria. I would think you'd recognize help when it came to you."

"Help?" she snorted, "I don't know the meaning of the word. I believe you just wanted the glory of taking out Barbossa yourselves. That's fine, I can-" Her rant was cut short as the sound of cannonfire rent the air. There came a sound of splintering wood, and Anamaria shot up from her sitting position on the deck. "Ay! We're being fired upon! Gibbs, get below and oversee cannons. Elizabeth, you're in charge of handing out arms to all on deck. The rest of you, find a place and fire from there!" she ordered.

Catherine an Evans, after receiving muskets from Elizabeth, scurried up the ratlines and sat in the rigging, firing down upon those standing on the _Regency's_ deck. Catherine, however, was sure not to shoot at anyone who looked like the young Barbossa boy she saw the night she was taken aboard that ship. The pair fired endlessly for several minutes, constantly loading and reloading as they battled. After a few minutes of continual rapid fire, Catherine could tell Evans was slowly beginning to flag. His motions were gradually slowing, and although Catherine knew he had the endurance for it, the last few minutes' action combined with the landing of the ship might have spread the boy a little thin. Suddenly, a musket ball tore through the rising cloud of smoky air, Catherine's sharp eyes catching the motion as it headed straight for Evans. With a shout, she dove from her place in the ropes, catching the ball in her own side. She fell from the air into the waters between the _Black Pearl_ and the _Regency_. Evans had quickly recovered from the shock of the blast, and saw Catherine hit the water. He prepared to dive after her, but just as he was about to leap from the lines, a golden-haired figure from the other ship cast his arms aside and plunged into the smoky blue depths. Apparently, Evans was not the only person to see her fall. Two heads burst from under the surface, one the fair-haired young man, and Catherine's own, her dark brown hair matted against her neck and the stranger's shoulder. The person used his free arm to propel himself and his load towards the _Regency_, and soon they had clambered aboard the ship. Evans, who was still in the rigging, hurried from his post to where Will, Jack, Anamaria, and Gibbs were huddled, firing at the other ship, unaware of what had occurred. The breathless young man crouched beside them.

"Will! Catherine- she was shot down," Evans gasped, "She was trying to save me, but she was hit. She fell between the ships, and someone- someone took her over to Barbossa's ship. I don't know who, but he did."

Will caught only the last part due to the boy's gasps, but it was enough for him to comprehend the situation. He prepared himself to leap over the side, but Elizabeth held his arm, causing her husband to refrain. "There's nothing, you can do," she explained softly, looking into his dark eyes.

"She's right, you know," Jack reinforced, "Even if you did get over there, what could you do? They'd have their hands on you, too, and where would that leave us? They would have what they came for, they could force us to surrender, and the whole business would be done. Barbossa could sail off to the island and you and your daughter would in all likelihood be killed. I see you hadn't thought of that," Jack added with a smile.

"Well, we'll wait out the battle. Tonight we can raid the ship in search of Catherine. I'll go around midnight, and-" Evans began, but was interrupted by Will.

"Evans, I know you love her," Will murmured into the boy's ear after gently pulling him aside, "but this is something I have to do."

The young man sighed, reluctantly agreeing. Finally, everyone turned back to resume fire through the billowing white smoke rising from between the two ships.

Catherine's chocolate-brown eyes flickered wearily open. Without turning her head she looked around to see where she lay, her eyes slightly drooped and clouded in fatigue. She was in a regally decorated ship's cabin that was painted an ivory color. The bed she lay on was relatively comfortable for a captain's quarters, and several pillows of ranging firmness elevated her pounding head. She grew aware of a gentle stroking sensation across her forehead, and Catherine came to the conclusion that someone was brushing their fingers against her head diagonally, moving from above her right eye just barely into her hair. She slowly turned to look at whoever it was caressing her brow, and saw a strong young face wreathed in golden-brown hair looking down into her eyes. His gentle but tough face was ornamented with the beginnings of what would someday be facial hair, and his steel-blue eyes contrasted his lightly suntanned skin. Slowly, the world came into focus for Catherine as the young man spoke softly.

"Kind of you to rejoin us in the land of the living," he teased, but not unkindly, "I must say, you are quite a strong maid. Not many girls I know could have taken something like that."

Catherine gave a small smile of pride. "Well, you may come to find I'm not like many girls my age," she explained, propping herself slowly upwards in the bed.

The young man, rising from where he sat next to her, stayed her. "Don't even think about getting up. Your wound isn't too near being fully healed, and it will only cause problems for you. Would you like a drink?"

The girl lay back, still sitting up a little, and sighed. "Oh yes, please. I haven't had one in awhile," she said. Catherine looked down at herself for the first time since waking up, and found that her brown vest jacket was missing, and she was dressed only in her fawn canvas shirt and breeches. Quizzically and a little shocked, she glanced back up at her host, who was currently pouring two glasses of liquor. "Where are my clothes?" she asked, a bit more quickly than she intended.

"Oh," the young man said, looking back over his shoulder at her, "They were torn, so I'm having them stitched up for you. They should be ready before nightfall, I would say. By the way," he added, "What did you say your name was?"

Catherine bit her lip for a split second, not expecting the question to come up. She couldn't use her last name, because if she remembered correctly, this young man was probably Ryan Barbossa, but he would want a quick, straight answer. She gave the first that came into her head: "Oh, I'm Catherine Swann," she answered with only a second's hesitation. Apparently it was a good enough answer for the young man, though, as he made no gesture to show suspicion. He sighed, bringing the glasses over to her and handing her one. "Well Miss Swann, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Ryan Barbossa," he introduced with a dramatic bow. He sat beside her as several feelings breezed through the girl's mind. _I knew it_, she thought, _Of course it was Ryan. But how can it be? He's so gentlemanly and…he can't be as bad as they all say. It's probably just a matter of lineage, and everyone thinks he's evil just because his uncle was. Perhaps it's best to get to know someone before making judgments. _She sat all the way up to take a drink, but when she made it into a full sitting position, she gasped unintentionally in pain.

"What is it?" asked Ryan, concern apparent in his voice.

"Nothing," Catherine answered quickly, "just my side."

"Well," Ryan Barbossa raised an eyebrow at her matter-of-factly, "I did tell you not to sit up. It will only make your wound worse. You know, you seem very obstinate," he added through narrowed eyes.

Catherine looked at him casually. "I may be obstinate, but I'm no idiot," she declared, a little pride easing into her voice.

"You _did_ get yourself shot," Ryan muttered, but loudly enough that his companion could hear.

Catherine was indignant. "I wasn't trying!" she defended herself, "I could have taken care of everything. And for your information, it was for a good cause. I was trying to save someone, all right?"

Ryan Barbossa simply smiled mischievously. "And rash and noble to boot," he said, "I suppose it runs in the family. Who did you say your father was again?"

"I didn't," she responded defensively, "and in my opinion you want to know too much."

Ryan stood up like a threatened animal. "I didn't mean offense, I was only asking."

Catherine was practically standing up out of the bed. "Well I'm sorry, but in my family, we've learned to keep certain things to ourselves. You see, we tend to have a poor history with strange pirates."

"I'm less of a stranger than you would think, and if you're as competent as you are distrustful, then go ahead and heal yourself!" Ryan raged, leaving the room hurriedly and shutting the door sharply behind him. He left the surrounding quarters and stomped towards the entranceway to the brig and storage area, rushing down the stairs and planning his next moves. As he trod heavily down the walkway in the stores, two crewmen came up behind him.

"How's Turner 'olding up?" one asked nastily as they walked.

Ryan did not need to think of an answer. "He's awake now," the boy replied, not looking back, "he's probably wishing he'd never done so, though. Now's the time when we should begin to formulate our plans." The boy had previously decided to refer to Catherine as her father. He didn't want his untrustworthy crew to know what they shouldn't and didn't want to hear, and he thought it better in the unlikely event of an emotional tie to the girl if they were kept in the dark. The two men walking with Ryan Barbossa grinned at each other in cruel pleasure. Ryan rolled his eyes, still looking forward as he faced a row of barrels.

"You idiots _do_ realize we still need the other one, don't you?" he sighed in annoyance.

"Well, Captain Barbossa," one sneered, "we think she won't be so 'ard for us to 'andle."

At this remark Ryan turned around sharply, stopping the men dead in their tracks. "You also realize that not only will Jack Sparrow be there, but if she is anything like her father, you may have more than you can deal with on your plates?" After saying this, he rotated back around to scan several small casks of assorted liquor, looking for one he'd like to bring upstairs for his victory- the winning over of Catherine. The crewmen stood behind Ryan, shifting about unsurely.

"Eh, Captain?" the second ventured in wary confidence.

"Yes?" the young man sighed impatiently, now looking over the top row.

"Erm, how do we go about _getting_ the Turner girl?"

Ryan scowled, now even more irritated. "Use your imaginations," he scoffed, not averting his eyes from the casks. The men made to leave after finding the answer to their question, but Ryan stopped them for a moment. "And boys," he implored, putting a brotherly arm around each of their shoulders, " I certainly hope there will be no mistakes. You see, misfortune has a way of finding out when they occur, and it would be very…_un_fortunate if misfortune should find you." He then let them depart, and once they were gone, Ryan found a small barrel that made his steely eyes light up. He drew it from the shelf and stood in the dim early evening sunlight pouring through the small porthole in the wall and smiled. He sighed, pleased, and left the room.

When the young man returned to the room, he knocked softly on the door twice. He heard a slight scuffling noise, a small thud, and what sounded like someone cursing quietly. Suddenly, the door opened, and Ryan found himself looking into thin air. He felt a gentle tug on his breeches and looked down to se Catherine on her hands and knees, holding her sword. Ryan Barbossa sighed and rolled his eyes, helping her up. "What were you doing?" he asked in tired exasperation.

Catherine sighed, sitting on the bed and sheathing her sword. "Well, I couldn't be expected to sit around and wait until you came back. I found something for myself to do."

Ryan tisked good-naturedly. "Swordplay is hardly what I would call recreation, let alone for someone who is as injured as yourself. Anyway, I suppose you'd need a stretch after that."

"Oh," she sighed, going over to sit on the bed, "you have no idea how good it feels to be up. What's that?" she added after noticing the cask Ryan was carrying.

He started, having forgotten he had it after ascertaining that Catherine had deserted the bed. "Oh, this. It's just a little something I brought up; I thought it might make you feel a bit better. If you're not pressed for time, I thought you might like to share some with me."

Catherine suddenly considered the fact that Evans, her father, and Jack would be concerned for her safety. She looked up quickly in apology. "I'm very sorry, but I have a prior engagement," she explained, not letting too much information slide, "if we could, however, make this appointment for a later date, perhaps I could."

Ryan Barbossa considered the options. "I think that will be fine," he said, "When do you think you could come back?"

"Tomorrow night?" Catherine suggested with a smile, cocking her head.

"Sounds excellent," Ryan answered, grinning back at her.

Catherine approached the window of the cabin, opening it slightly. "Well, I must be going," she sighed.

"What are you doing?" Ryan questioned, nodding towards the window.

"You don't expect me to go out from on deck, do you? I wouldn't want to draw too much attention to myself," she reasoned with a shake of her head.

Ryan Barbossa smiled and rolled his eyes as Catherine gave a slight salute and leapt out the window. The young man then turned back to the desk and sat down, left suddenly alone to ruminate the events of the day.

After a long struggle to swim across the hiatus between the two ships and clamber onboard the _Pearl_, Catherine finally collapsed, exhausted, onto the wooden deck. The swim from the _Regency_ had taken its toll on the wounded girl, and the salt water's sting against her side had slowed her progress. To make matters worse, it had begun to rain just as she was leaving Ryan Barbossa's ship. The driving needles of water struck her face painfully, and as she lay on the deck to catch her breath, the rain wrapped its icy hand around her, keeping her out of forgiving sleep.

Will, who had heard his daughter hit the deck, rushed out from the cabin to see what was going on. Seeing her tired form laying prone on the wooden surface, her called out to Elizabeth. Catherine's mother hurried outside, bearing a lit candle. As she approached the figure Will was supporting, she realized it was Catherine and the extinguished candle fell to the deck, Elizabeth racing to her husband's aid. She took her daughter, who was lapsing into unconsciousness, into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I love you, Catherine," the tearful woman said into her child's wet hair, "I'm so glad you're alive! You scared me half to death. I know I've been a bad mother, but I promise to you that I'll be a better parent. I never want to lose you again."

Overwhelmed by exhaustion and happiness, Catherine could only embrace her mother briefly before collapsing into her arms. Will looked into his wife's red eyes lovingly and stood. "We have to get her inside," he insisted. Elizabeth nodded in assent, helping Will carry Catherine inside the cabin where Jack, Gibbs, and Evans waited anxiously. The Turners, accompanied by a young Evans, stayed by her side all through the dismal, stormy night.

"Honestly, the best thing for gunshot wound is good, strong rum," the voice said. It was the next morning, and Catherine was just reopening her eyes. The first thing she saw was Jack Sparrow brandishing a bottle of liquor and arguing with Will and Elizabeth while Evans sat on the right side of the bed on which Catherine lay. She rolled over, putting a hand to her head with a groan. "Oh no," she sighed quietly, "not this again."

At her remark, Jack looked over to see that she was awake and saw Catherine's rousing as defense. "See," he said to Elizabeth coolly, "Works every time."

"Jack! I will not have my daughter engage in drinking. It's a bad practice for even a man of your age, and she's fifteen. And worse yet, she's a girl," Elizabeth answered obstinately. At this, Catherine sat upright in outrage.

"Mum! What's that supposed to mean?" she gasped at her mother. However, before Elizabeth could react, Catherine clutched her side in pain and leaned back against the bed. Upon seeing her daughter hurt, her matriarchal instincts brought her swiftly to Catherine's side. Elizabeth held the girl's head in her hands and brought the brow to her lips, closing her eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again!" she whispered softly but meaningfully against her child's head. Will and Jack approached them, wanting to tell Catherine of their pride in her recovery. Elizabeth rose, releasing Catherine and letting the young woman's father in. Will smiled at her and placed a proud hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so glad you're alright. You're pretty hard to get rid of, I should say," he shook his head briefly with a chuckle. Jack stepped in then, nearly pushing Will out of the way to get to Catherine. "So," he began, "After this little episode, I think you have proved you have the pirate blood."

Catherine smiled, glad that Jack thought so. "Well, I _do_ have the right lineage," she pointed out with a proud smirk to her father. Will smiled back.

"At least you're safe," he said with a proud sigh. "You'll probably be on your feet sooner than we'd like you to be."

Elizabeth gave a small smile and placed her hand in her husband's. "I believe Catherine has had quite enough of us for one day," she advised, "Let's leave and give her some rest." Will nodded briefly in reply, and he, Jack, and Elizabeth went to exit the cabin. Evans, however, leaned forward to halt Will.

"Um, Mr. Turner," he began softly, "may I stay with Catherine?"

Will and Elizabeth glanced at each other quickly in tacit conversation. The former then shifted his gaze back to Evans as he replied, "You may, but she's in your care."

Evans smiled broadly in return. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."

Once this was said, Will and Elizabeth exited the room, shutting the door behind them. When they were out, Elizabeth turned and looked up at Will in anxiety. "Will, are you insane?" she half-whispered, "Do you know what you have done?"

He returned her gaze in pleading explanation. "Elizabeth, what else could I do? They're in love. You know you or I would do the same for each other."

Elizabeth sighed in reluctant acceptance. "You're right. Let's go see what Jack's up to."

Meanwhile, back in the cabin, Catherine and Evans were quietly talking as the boy stroked Catherine's forehead. She, as could be expected, was on the verge of sleep.

"It's getting better," she said, "It really is. It looked a lot worse yesterday."

Evans smiled with a slight chuckle. "Really? That's strange, since it was fresh yesterday. I would _hope_ it looked better." The pair laughed, but their laughter was paused as the door to the cabin came open. Gibbs' head poked out from behind it, and seeing the occupants, stepped fully inside. "Ah, Catherine. You're just the person I was lookin' for," he said, approaching the bed. Evans stood, letting Catherine sit up to greet her visitor.

"What is it?" the girl asked. Evans approached the door, unsure of what to do.

"Erm, should I go?" the boy asked, gesturing toward the entranceway.

Gibbs shrugged. "You can stay if you like. I wanted to talk to you after anyway." Gibbs then sat down, pulling the chair around from behind the desk and sliding another beside it for Evans. The boy, however, shook his head in polite dissent and instead took to strolling idly about the room.

Gibbs pulled his chair closer to where Catherine sat. "So," he began, "What's it like?"

Catherine looked at him inquiringly. "What do you mean?"

"Being a pirate. How does it feel to finally follow your blood? Your whole family has taken this way of living, so there must be something to continuing the line."

Catherine sighed, knowing exactly what Gibbs meant. Ever since setting foot on the commandeered ship, she had felt a strong sense of accomplishment. She knew that something about being where she was felt right. "I suppose there is some level of self-fulfillment, you could say. The moment I stepped aboard the Pearl, there was some spark lit deep inside me, telling me that I had done something right for a change," the girl answered.

Gibbs contemplated this answer, nodding as he found it to his liking. "I knew you had it in ye," he said, a knowing smile on his face, "Ever since I first laid eyes on ye as a little 'un, I felt you'd be a strong pirate someday. It jus' seems like ye done it sooner than I thought."

Catherine smiled and nodded once, believing herself that it was true. She then tilted her head in recognition. "Gibbs, you also said you wanted to talk with Evans, didn't you?" the girl asked.

The man procured a small flask from his pocket and swigged briefly with a nod. "That I did. However, I would like to talk to 'im in private."

"Would you like me to leave?" the girl asked kindly, beginning to rise from the bed.

"Oh, no, no. You're fine, Miss Catherine. We'll go outside. It's no problem," Gibbs replied, shaking his head adamantly and standing. He motioned for the boy to follow him as he made for the door and opened it slightly. Evans lingered back beside Catherine and looked at Gibbs apologetically. "Erm, I'll be right there, Gibbs. I just have to tell her something quickly."

"Suit yourself," the man shrugged, "I'll just be out on the deck." And with that, he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

The two young people were left alone once more, and Evans approached Catherine, bending slightly over her. She simply sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him expectantly. "I'll make it quick," the boy said, "since Gibbs is waiting for me. I just wanted to tell you…well, to tell you that you're one of just three people I have ever wanted to tell more about myself to. And there's something else I want you to know. Before I tell you, I want to explain to you that you are the third person I have ever told this to, and you're the first person I've wanted to tell this the most to."

"Evans, what is it?" Catherine inquired, a mild hint of impatience in her voice.

"Well, my first name is Ryan. I was named- well, I was named after my father."

The girl gasped. This was crazy! How could he and Ryan Barbossa have the same name? It just made everything so…different. And he was named for his father, the town drunk. Evans was nothing like that. "Are you serious?" she asked, sounding a little more dumbfounded than she would have preferred.

Evans nodded honestly and gave her a half smile. "The only other people who know are Jack and my old captain. I just supposed you wanted to know that, to give you an idea of whose league you're in."

Catherine smiled wholeheartedly. "Thank you Evans- I mean, Ryan. It means a lot that you wanted me to know something so personal. How can I thank you enough?"

"Well," the young man said, draping a blanket around her shoulders and straightening up, "You could start by getting some rest. That wound still needs healing, may I remind you." He then smiled brightly and left the cabin.

Catherine watched after him, knowing that she would never think of him quite the same way again. The endearment he just granted her to him meant far more to Catherine than anything anyone had done for her. She smiled at the thought, and lay back on the bed, covering herself with the blanket. Soon afterwards, she was sound asleep.

Outside the cabin, Gibbs waited patiently for the boy to emerge. The man had stood with his ear against the door for a minute, trying to gain some idea of what was being said inside. With the sound of footsteps approaching the door, Gibbs backed away and leaned nonchalantly against the woodwork of the ship. Evans, surfacing from inside the cabin, peered around the corner and noticed Gibbs standing there. The man straightened from his tilted position and led the younger man over to where they could sit and talk in private. "So," Ryan Evans began, taking a seat on a wooden crate, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Gibbs leaned in towards the young man, pulling his own stool nearer. "I noticed you've taken a likin' to young Miss Turner," he murmured to his charge.

Evans leaned back, reluctant to make his true feelings known; even to someone he'd known as long as Gibbs. He put his tongue against the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms. "And? So?" he inquired.

"Well, that might put you into a position you don't want to be in."

"What do you mean?" the boy asked with a curious sigh.

Gibbs looked around surreptitiously. "Let's just say that Elizabeth- Mrs. Turner, I mean, isn't too keen on young men such as yourself."

Evans looked at the sky briefly. "Gibbs, what are you saying?"

"Well, Mrs. Turner is just touchy, that all. If you're goin' to be involved, shall we say, with Catherine, then you'd best watch yourself around Elizabeth. She's not one you'll want to get on the wrong side of. If you know what I'm sayin' o' course."

"Gibbs, I _don't_ know what you're saying, though."

Gibbs sighed. "Evans, you're a good man. I want you to be happy. So perhaps bein' happy, you may find out, means not getting involved with the Turners- especially the missus."

The realization of what Gibbs meant hit the boy suddenly. He was trying to get him away from Catherine, though for what reason Evans did not know.

"I think your job o' gatherin' information about Barbossa is getting Elizabeth suspicious. She's going to make things hard for you, I can tell," Gibbs concluded, his voice dropping to just above a whisper as it slowed, "That was all." The man rose, clapped the boy once on the shoulder soundly, and strode off down the deck.

Evans watched after him, his head reeling. Why on earth would it matter to Gibbs if he liked Catherine or not? It made no sense why he should want them apart…could it have something to do with Jack, or even as Gibbs had said, Ryan Barbossa? Or was there some other force at work on the microcosm of the _Pursuit_? Whatever the reason, Evans wanted to know, and he was determined to find out soon.

It was late into the silky night when a silent Catherine Turner awoke and slipped out of the cabin. She crouched low, cautiously glancing around to see if anyone was on deck. To her relief, she saw no one but still held her breath as she slowly rose upright. Catherine crept swiftly to the railing of the ship's side and using he carved hull for handholds, lowered herself wordlessly into the water. Soon after, she arrived at the _Regency_ and raised herself hand over hand from the sea onto the ship. She quickly looked inside the cabin through the window to make sure Ryan was alone. Seeing that he was indeed unaccompanied, she rapped once softly upon the glass pane. Upon recognizing the girl through the windowpane, he speedily strode over and opened it to let her inside.

"Ah, Miss Swann and your elaborate ways," the young man smiled casually at Catherine once she was safely indoors, "You simply couldn't just take the front door could you?" He handed her a cloth to dry her face and hair and procured a chair for her. "I must say that wound is looking much better. You're lucky it passed through cleanly, or you wouldn't even be able to lift yourself. Though," he added softly, looking at her sideways, "judging by your admirable determination, I wouldn't be surprised if you could just to be up and sailing sooner."

At Ryan Barbossa's truthful remark, Catherine smiled and shook her head humbly. The young man smiled back at her and went over to the liquor cabinet. "I think," he said, opening the small cupboard and removing a bottle and two glasses, "that a drink is in order. To celebrate your health and fortitude."

Catherine raised her eyebrows in interest as he poured the dark liquid into the glasses. "I wouldn't mind that," she muttered inaudibly. Once Ryan had dispensed the rum into the small glasses he returned to his post behind the desk, while Catherine chose the window cushion. "You know, I believe you would look much better when dry," the young man grinned in sarcastic observance as he sipped his drink. His mood quickly changed a bit as he ruminated over the fact that he could never be with this girl; the only girl he'd ever really known. He thought of her as courageous and intelligent, humorous… the list went on. The idea that he might have to try and kill her in the days to come made his stomach churn with unhappiness. While he did not like the prospect, he knew it would be necessary to prevent the crew from doing anything to him. However, he shook the thought out of his mind and instead turned to a different task- he would at least attempt to get Catherine to betray that she was truly the daughter of Will Turner. Ryan did know the girl's true identity; however, he did not reveal her that he did, in fact, know who she was.

The pair sat in silence, sipping from their tumblers for a few moments as both reveled in their own thoughts. Finally, deciding on a safe topic for conversation, Catherine broke the still silence. "What's it like, being the captain of a ship?" she asked sincerely, yet saying it only to get an exchange going.

Ryan thought for a minute. "Well," he began reflectively as he shifted in his seat, "it has its moments; I mean, as long as you know what must be done, you let the crew know it, and you are firm about it, then it's generally a simple task. However, there are times nonetheless when you just have no control. For example, right now I'm on a mission to avenge my uncle's death. The crew wants me to go after some people who they count responsible for all the misfortunes upon them. I didn't want to be their captain, though. Before this whole affair," the boy added in wholehearted annoyance, unaware that he had unwittingly changed the subject, "I was quite content- the son of a well-off carpenter. I was halfway through my apprenticeship with him when, in the middle of the night no less, the crew came and took me."

Catherine was enthralled by his story. His choice of words, however, made her consider the idea that he perhaps knew that she was a Turner. Nonetheless, she became wrapped up in the narrative and leaned in closer. "Go on," she prompted.

Ryan Barbossa cast his gaze to the side in blank anger. He then continued, "I had always known my uncle had something to do with the sea. I'd heard stories from my father and from what he told me, I could tell my father disliked his brother's choice of trade. Anyway, the crew told me more about my uncle and how e was a terribly feared pirate- the captain of the very _Black Pearl_ herself. They roped me into doing this and I really had no say in the matter."

While the young man talked, Catherine was on the verge of outburst at some of his remarks. However, she wisely held her tongue and instead decided to elaborate on her own thoughts of captaincy. "I can't wait until I become a captain. That is, if I do of course."

Ryan Barbossa smiled as a thought crossed his mind. "Well, with your personality, you can rest assured you will someday," he remarked.

Catherine smiled at him. "Thanks. Though I still think it may take some hoping. I would just like to take the _Pursuit _in my own command for a while. I just want the feeling of achievement that comes with being captain."

"Yes, but captaincy also has its bad points," Ryan said, rising from his chair with a somber look on his face. He walked slowly over to look out the window upon the water. "You have to deal with fights amongst the crew, foul weather…they blame everything on you."

Catherine joined him by the window, looking at his slightly melancholy demeanor in shared sorrow. She could not quite place the reason for his sadness, and she simply placed a kind hand on his shoulder. "I know that also comes with the package, but still. Think of the authority you have over so many people. You could tell them to do nearly anything you like and they almost always do it."

Ryan Barbossa gazed down at the girl, a grim smile on his face. "I know, but there's more to it. Your commands can lead to mutiny; the actions you want to take place could turn against you easily. Not everyone supports you…and if you're anything like me, no one does."

A tear pricked the back of Catherine's eye, her friend's statement unbelievable to her. How could he be alone like that in the world? She laid her head sympathetically on his shoulder and sighed. Just then, a raucous clamor of shouts and noise was heard from on the deck. Catherine lifted her head and both looked to the door of the cabin. Numerous shouts of "Captain Barbossa!" were heard among the overall clatter. The girl hastily made her way to the window, hoping to make a quick exit before anyone found out about her presence on the ship. Ryan saw her motion and smiled, laughing to himself.

"Ah, yes. No great entrance is complete without a big exit," he stated bluntly. More cries were heard outside, and there were a few bangs on the door. "Another thing captains must deal with- the crew and their dogfights," the young man sighed, his gaze shifting towards the cabin door, "It never ends, does it? Oh well, carry on." He then went back over to the doorway and stepped outside. Catherine, one leg out the window, grinned and shook her head. What an amazing man, she thought to herself. Looking into the distance at the slowly rising sun, she swung her other side off the ship and, shutting the window behind her, made her way back to the _Black Pearl_. The girl still heard the jumble of cries and calls from Ryan's crew and several shouts from the boy himself. Slipping quickly into the cabin of the _Pearl_, she sat on the bed in case anyone should enter. Catherine perceived the sound of more shouts; only these came from the deck of the _Pearl_. She went outside the cabin to investigate, her curiosity sparked by the rapid onset of all the sound on deck. The first sights to greet Catherine's eyes were Jack, Gibbs, and Anamaria shouting orders on different areas of the ship, and her mother standing worriedly in a corner, wringing her hands in anxiety. Suddenly, Evans dashed up to the girl breathlessly.

"Catherine! Oh thank heaven," he sighed, gasping for breath, "We need you right away."

The girl took his shoulders in heightened worry and looked into his eyes with mixed fear and uncertainty. "Evans, what's going on? Why is everyone like this?"

The young man stared solemnly into Catherine's eyes and swallowed hard. "They've taken him, Catherine. They captured Will!"

It was true. While the crew of the _Black Pearl_ slept or went about their early morning business, oblivious to what was occurring on deck, several of Ryan Barbossa's crew had silently crept over to the _Pearl_ and boarded the ship. Will had been sidling around the quarterdeck on watch, his back turned to the rest of the ship. When the men slunk up behind him, he had only a brief second to really understand what was happening; he heard a slight noise at the back of him, spinning sharply to see whom it was, and was hit over the head with a pistol butt, knocking him out cold. The crewmen then bound Will's hands behind his back and gagged him, so as to keep him from shouting out. They dragged the unconscious man to the edge of the ship and lowered themselves into the water, bearing their burden along. Upon hitting the near-frigid waters, Will woke suddenly, his senses slow to react to his situation. His eyes shot open and he saw to his dismay that he was being borne aboard the _Regency_ and shoved into a mass of scraggly men. The men reached for him, jeering with evil, toothless grins upon their dark faces. As the remainder of the crew gathered around, Will knew all he could do was struggle against the bonds that held him; there was no real hope of escape at this point. The men shouted at their prisoner unintelligibly, but Will recognized that anything they had to say was meant to insult. Will was forced into a standing position and shoved nearer to the cabin doors. The man on Will's right called out to the captain, trying to make himself heard over the din.

"Captain Barbossa! We have- get _off_, Twiggs! He's not to be harmed—yet," the man called as one of the more audacious crew members ventured closer in an attempt to stab at Will.

Will Turner thought for a moment. He hadn't seen a few of these men before, but nearly all were familiar to him. They hadn't changed much; they were still the same faces Will wished he would never see again. Both new and old, however, were aware of Will's actions those sixteen long years ago, and the man knew that all wanted to see him dead.

Suddenly, Ryan Barbossa emerged from within the cabin, concealing the opening of the entrance behind his back as he closed the door so as not to reveal whatever was inside. Will's eyes narrowed. The last time he had seen this face was when he, Jack, and Catherine had been captured in Tortuga. Now, Ryan looked even more like his uncle by the early morning sunlight than by the moonlight in which Will saw him before. The boy stood erect, his proud chin held high superciliously and his arms crossed in front of him as he evaluated the two crewmen who were positioned on either side of their captive. "So you managed to capture the Turner. Well done, boys," the young man said, lightly praising his men. He then leaned a few inches closer to them and dropped his voice to a lower tone. "After he escaped the first time, I was afraid we'd never be able to see his pretty face again." At this remark, a few of the closer crewmembers laughed along with Ryan, not fully understanding why it was they were supposed to laugh. After Catherine was brought aboard and later left the Regency, Ryan Barbossa had explained the Turner's absence by saying that "Will" had simply escaped.

The boy's false laughter turned quickly into a sharp bark as the men chortled along with him. "What are you laughin' at? Get back to work, the lot of ye!" he snapped at his crew. Will could not deny that when Ryan said this, his manner was so like that of his uncle that Will had a brief, sudden flashback to the days of the elder Barbossa. Ryan spun once again towards Will and the two men flanking him. "Bring him to the brig. And _this_ time, I want him to _remain_ bound," Ryan growled maliciously, "We'd certainly not want him to escape a third time, now would we?" With this final comment, he narrowed his eyes at the trio, deeply searching Will's eyes.

Will suddenly felt himself jerked backward as the men shoved him down into the brig, the evil laughter of the crew still ringing in his ears.

Meanwhile, back on the _Black Pearl_, Catherine, Evans, and the rest dodged about giving and taking orders, tying up ropes and dashing around in an attempt to make the process of shoving off quicker. As Catherine was tying a rope to a peg on the railing of the ship, she noticed that the _Pursuit_ was still sitting idle on the other side of the _Pearl_. She paused unconsciously in her action, staring at the ship through thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

"What if we took that one?" she whispered reflexively, thinking hard and quickly.

Evans gazed at the girl, curious as to her meaning. "What was that?" he asked, unsure of what his friend had said.

Catherine turned sharply to him in order to elaborate. "What if we took the _Pursuit_, waited for Anamaria and Ryan Barbossa to both leave, and we sailed off behind the _Regency_? We could box him in and fire upon him from the back if need be," she said urgently, explaining her logic, "He wouldn't be able to go anywhere without us noticing, in theory."

Evans considered it briefly. It was an almost flawless plan. It made terrific sense, and would be easy to accomplish. He turned to locate Anamaria, Gibbs, and Jack. Then, after looping the rope currently in his hands around a wooden nail, he jogged around to collect the three, Catherine closely trailing behind.

"Anamaria, Gibbs! Get Jack," Evans requested, "There's been a change in plans. Meet us in the cabin and tell everyone we are _not_ to shove off yet." He and Catherine entered the cabin, where Anamaria, Jack Sparrow, and Gibbs soon joined them. Once everyone was inside and Catherine had their attention, the girl leaned forward and proposed her plan.

"If we could have Jack and Gibbs with us, then we should be virtually indestructible. As I told Evans, they wouldn't be able to so much as sneeze without us knowing," Catherine reasoned with a smile and a curt shake of her head, "We can always follow them if they decide to maneuver around the _Pearl_, whereas on this ship we wouldn't be able to turn around fast enough to catch them."

Anamaria steamed at the idea that her ship might not be fast enough. "You're mad, both of you. It will never work. The _Pearl_ can manage perfectly well by herself. You forget that it has outrun many fast ships in the past."

"That's not what we mean," Evans interjected, but Anamaria had already continued.

"The _Pearl_ could turn faster than you think, and besides, we need as many hands as we can get. If we lost-" She was cut off by Evans, who interposed with reason.

"We won't be taking a full crew, Anamaria. All Catherine and I are looking for is Gibbs and Jack. The four of us can handle it almost as well as you can with a full crew. Trust me, the _Pursuit_ is in capable hands. She'll hold just fine," the young man explained calmly.

After contemplating the situation briefly, Jack rose in one abrupt movement. "Well, I'm all for it. I feel at some point in every young person's life, they should be allowed to command their own ship. It builds character."

"Like you know anything about character," Anamaria muttered under her breath.

"They learn to lead, if you take my meaning," Jack carried on, sauntering over to Anamaria, who swatted him away as though he were a fly.

Gibbs sighed. "I'm afraid they've got me, too," he said, placing a sympathetic hand on Anamaria's shoulder. "It's a sound proposition and I, frankly, must agree with 'em." He strode over to stand between Catherine and Evans and threw an arm around the boy's shoulders. "You know, I'm quite lookin' forward to this," the man concluded with a boyish grin.

Anamaria sighed in annoyance, her lips tightening in resignation. "Well, at least Jack won't be around to bother me any longer," she growled, drawing out Jack's name viciously.

Jack leaned closer and grinned mischievously. "Then there's one advantage to the plan, eh?" he stated. Anamaria simply rolled her eyes and groaned in what was mostly mock frustration.

Ten minutes later saw Ryan Evans, Catherine, Jack, and Gibbs boarding the _Pursuit_ and collecting supplies, including two crates filled with bottles of rum that Jack had implored Anamaria to turn over to him. With a final wave from Catherine to Anamaria, signaling the _Pearl_ to depart, the small but hardy crew double-checked the supplies, let loose the sails, and prepared for their own departure later on.

About five minutes following the disappearance of the _Black Pearl_, hidden in the cabin to ensure that no one from the _Regency_ would notice them, Evans, Catherine, Gibbs, and Jack watched in anticipation as the thick wooden hull of Ryan Barbossa's ship flew out of the small inlet and after the Black Pearl. The foursome leapt up, ready to chase after the second ship, but Catherine froze with a sudden realization. "We forgot Mother!" she exclaimed, making the rest turn sharply to see what was wrong, "My mother is still on the _Pearl_! How could we forget _her_?"

At that moment, a figure materialized from seemingly out of nowhere, emerging from a corner of the cabin to stand amongst the friends. Dressed in a pair of close-fitting breeches and a neat canvas shirt and jacket, Elizabeth looked nothing like the picture Catherine had of her mother. "Forget _me_? _Really_. You didn't think I'd let you four have all the fun without me, did you?" Elizabeth inquired, grinning as she waltzed into view. She sauntered past Evans and whispered malevolently into the boy's ear. "I'm keeping an eye on you," she said, going over to stand between Catherine and Gibbs. "Well, let's catch up to that ship now, shall we?"

Catherine, dumbstruck and stricken speechless by her mother's miraculous appearance stood staring after her mother as she went out on deck, followed by Jack and Gibbs. Evans walked up to the girl, smiling with the irony of the situation. He patted Catherine once on the back and departed from the cabin, leaving his friend standing in the middle of the room. She quickly snapped back into reality with the understanding that Will was still a captive on the _Regency_ and they needed to get moving to catch up to them. Hustling out onto the deck, Catherine set herself straight and decided that if their mission was to be successful, she shouldn't inquire further about her mother's sudden appearance.

Outside, Jack had already taken supreme command. He was used to doing so by this point in time. The man stood behind the helm, one hand resting on the heavy wooden wheel. Deftly, Jack flicked out his small compass and studied it for a moment. He looked up again for a second, adjusted the helm slightly to the right, and in one movement, clicked the compass shut and stowed it away in his pocket. Gibbs came up the quarterdeck stairs to where Jack had situated himself and stood next to the man, staring out onto the calm sea.

"The wind's changin'," Gibbs said, eyes still focused on the water, "and I 'ave a feelin' it's in our favor. But there's somethin' in the air that I don't like. I would say it's the bad luck from 'avin' a woman on board, but Catherine doesn't count. She's too much of a leader, wouldn't ye say?"

Jack nodded, his eyes forward. "Aye. She's destined for greatness, that one."

"Elizabeth," Gibbs continued, "well, not quite sure if she's an exception, but we had fair luck with 'er last time."

"Elizabeth is a married woman now," Jack said, "There's no telling what brand of luck she'll bring. We're not seven leagues from the Isla del Muerto, and our friend young Barbossa is reminding m more and more of his somewhat more vile predecessor. The only difference is that he isn't sailing my ship at that moment, but who's to say it won't happen? I have a feeling myself," he persisted, "only this feeling is that the Captain Ryan Barbossa may become a more troublesome enemy. My only fear is that we may underestimate him and be unprepared for- well, for anything that he might do," Jack concluded, unsure of what to say.

Gibbs stood for a moment in silence, his graying hair blowing gently in the early morning sea breeze as he digested the information. "Aye," he said, believing it wise not to discuss the matter further for the moment, "That'll about do it." And with that, Gibbs descended the short staircase onto the main deck, where he went to help Catherine and Evans with the sails.

Jack remained at the helm, talking softly to himself. "I do believe," he murmured, "that Barbossa will become far more dangerous than he already is. He's got a plan for each of us. I can feel it."

On the Regency just before dawn, Will was roughly shoved down the dank but clean stairwell to the brig. He noticed that the cell doors had been replaced since he was last inside them, and that Barbossa had run his man through the mill to ensure that they would not as easily be removed again.

The three crewmen led Will into one cell, where the short rope lead tied to his bound hands was loosed and removed. One man stayed to lock the door while the others departed for the deck. Before the third man could leave, Will asked him something he had been pondering since Barbossa had spoken a few minutes before. "What did Barbossa mean when he said, 'after he escaped the second time?'" Will inquired, not looking the man in the eyes.

The man turned back to look at Will in mixed disgust and mild confusion. "What did the captain mean?" he asked incredulously, "He meant that after we shot you and you fell into the water, he pulled you onto tour ship and, well…I don't know what he did, but I do know that you some'ow escaped. Well, we've go you again and there ain't no chance of ye escapin' again," the man said with a coarse chuckle, and left the brig, leaving Will in silence, lost in his own muddled thoughts.

Will leaned against the door of the small cell, his head spinning. This was only the second time he had been trapped on Barbossa's ship The man had talked as though Will had been captured sometime between his entrapment near Tortuga and now. However, he hadn't been. Jack hadn't been recaptured, as far as he knew, and Evans, Gibbs, nor Elizabeth had set foot on the Regency. Catherine was the only one who had…

"That's it!" Will exclaimed to himself, finally figuring out the situation_. Of course. Catherine had been shot down those three days ago and brought to this ship,_ he thought, _She had escaped. But why did both Barbossa and the crewman say it was I who had been recaptured? _Overwhelmed with confusion and the overall situation, shook his head and sat down on the small stool in the cell, lost in thought.

Later that afternoon on the Pursuit, the miniature crew had engaged itself in work, each person attempting to find something to occupy himself with. Well, mostly.

"So, Evans, are you gifted in the area of swordplay?" Catherine questioned challengingly, circling the boy with her sword pointed at him. Gibbs toddled over to sit on the sidelines, curious as to how the match would result. Two young people in love, battling it out with swords- this should be good.

Evans returned the challenge, whipping out his own blade. He tossed it in the air, twisting it so that it spun in midair. Evans caught it perfectly by the handle and held it aloft. "I'm an expert," he replied, grinning mischievously.

The two circled, tapping their swords together twice. The sound of metal upon metal echoed through the still afternoon air. Evans swung roughly near Catherine's head, but she ducked and rolled out of the way just in time, popping up to block a second swing shortly after. She forced her sword forward near Evans' side. He snapped his own blade down to meet it in the nick of time. Then, seeing a quick chance to get in and advance upon Catherine, he went into a rapid fire of speedy swings and thrusts. Catherine, unable to deflect all the attacks, fell backward onto the deck. Holding herself up on one elbow, she madly fought to regain her position. It looked to Gibbs as though Ryan Evans had gotten the better of his friend and now clearly had the upper hand in the fight. Suddenly, Catherine thrust the point of her sword into the basket hilt of her adversary's weapon, and with a quick flick of her wrist, wrenched it from his grasp. It flew into the air, and Catherine sprang from the deck to catch it in her own free hand. She then held both sword aloft and advanced upon Evans with a victorious smile upon her face.

Gibbs stared in deep admiration of Catherine's ability and marveled at how she so quickly turned the tide. "Just like 'er father, that one," he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief, "That's one girl I'd not want to cross blades with if'n I were an enemy, no sir."

Jack, leaving Elizabeth to handle the helm after giving her explicit instructions, had become interested in the fight and sauntered over to investigate, sitting beside Gibbs. "Aye, she's better than both you and I put together. I believe, if you are still superstitious about women's luck on ships, she will make up for any bad luck that Elizabeth may cause," he commented.

"Maybe you're right. I don't know 'ow she does it. Who knows; in time, Catherine may prove to bring better luck than when we first met young Will," Gibbs added with a chuckle.

"She probably will, Mr. Gibbs. She probably will."

By this time, Evans had flatly surrendered, Catherine had returned his sword, and both were chatting jovially. The pair came to sit with Gibbs and Jack, one on either side of the already seated men.

"So," Catherine said, addressing Jack, who sat to her right, "How did I do?"

"Clearly you are the superior swordsman- er, woman," Jack stated matter-of-factly, correcting himself swiftly.

Evans stared at him across Gibbs in mock indignance. "What about me? I obviously had the better hand in the fight until she _cheated_."

"I'm a pirate. What did you expect?" the girl replied with a charming smile.

"I don't see that she cheated, Mr. Evans," Gibbs remarked in Catherine's defense, "How did she?"

Evans furrowed his brow at the man in feigned annoyance. "She caught her blade in my hilt and took it from me!"

"Mr. Evans, I don't see that as cheating. That's just you failing to pay attention and hold onto your sword," came a voice from the upper deck. All four of the people sitting on the lower part turned to see Elizabeth smiling imperiously down at them from her position behind the helm. While Catherine was somewhat surprised by hearing her mother talk that way, Evans was flabbergasted- one, that Elizabeth would even address him; and two, that she could be that open and warm to someone like him.

Catherine, recovering from the initial shock of her mother's comment, nudged the still-thunderstruck Evans in the side. "Hear that?" she joked playfully, "Even my mother says I win. You are obviously outnumbered."

Evans, realizing his routing, sighed and stuck his sword point into the deck floor, standing the sword upright. He hung his head in pretend defeat. "Alright, so you beat me. I still think- no, I know- that I am better than you. It was simply the luck of the draw this time around," he said, arms akimbo and a proud grin on his face. He strode past Catherine and looked back at her. He then went up the stairs to the quarterdeck to join Elizabeth at the helm. The woman, upon his arrival, made no sign of noticing his presence.

"Erm, Mrs. Turner? About back there," Evans began in a low voice. This was one, and possibly the only conversation he did not want Catherine to overhear.

"Yes, Mr. Evans, I spoke to you," Elizabeth muttered back, still looking forward, "I did say something remotely kind to you. I know that's what you wanted to ask about. I am capable of being personable, you know. And no, don't expect it often," she added as Evans tried to comment. His face fell slightly at this remark.

"And Mr. Evans?" Elizabeth continued, calling him back as he made to leave.

"Yes, Mrs. Turner?"

"I have been meaning to speak privately with you for some time. Would you be so kind as to join me in the cabin around, oh, dusk? There are some things I would say to you," Elizabeth inquired.

"Alright," Ryan Evans replied, somewhat confused, "Dusk it is." And with that, he went back down the staircase, leaving Elizabeth to her own thoughts.

Ryan Barbossa was in a quandary. His crew wanted to know the truth and he didn't want to give it to them. He didn't know if this was out of love for Catherine and fear for her safety or fear for his own. He decided it was a little of both. Ryan wished he could say that it was complete love for Catherine, but some hidden part of him that he despised forced him to fear for himself.

"Cap'n Barbossa," said one of the crew who had accompanied Will to the brig, "We've got a bone to pick wi' you."

Ryan, although startled by the sudden appearance of the three men, showed no sign of it. In fact, he acted as though it was one big ironic joke. "_Bone_ to pick?" he said, chuckling as he turned away from the window he had previously been staring out, "That's funny, see? Because _you're_ cursed, and it looks like- well, anyway," he playfully delivered a light punch to the crewman nearest him while coughing up some fake laughter. His demeanor quickly turned frosty at their looks of solemn, unbridled but hidden anger and determination to find out the real story.

"What do you seadogs want?" Ryan growled through narrowed eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

"You should sit down," said the huskier of the three with a menacing smile

Ryan wasn't fazed. He simply remained standing how he was and gave the men a supercilious glare. "I really don't think you should be doing the ordering in this cabin," he said in a deep, warning tone.

The man drew out his pistol and cocked it. "I insist," he grinned.

Ryan whipped out his own pistol and sword, one in either hand, and pointed them at the man in front. "If any man jack of ye dares challenge me now, let him speak. It'll be the last thing he ever says. Now if we're quite finished, state your business or depart from here."

The man's smirk faded quickly at Ryan's statement. He knew better than to mess with a Barbossa in such a rage- even a young one. "Fine. When we brought Turner below, Twiggs 'ere was wise enough to remark about last time."

"I didn't say nothin'! Turner mentioned it!" the second man exclaimed defensively. The man in front turned to silence him and quickly faced Barbossa again. "So, somethin' about 'ow he was captured last time came up and Turner was askin' all sort o' questions about 'ow we meant 'last time.' We got to thinkin', what if Barbossa was lyin' to us after all? Now we're after the truth. And if it's not given willingly, we'll just have to take it."

Ryan, while stunned and somewhat ambushed by this "request," did not let it show to the men. Instead, he made up for his internal shock with external authority and rage. "Total insubordination, gentlemen, questioning the authority of your captain!" he growled in a low shout, "Now if you want to live to see nightfall, I suggest you leave this cabin right away."

The man in front gave Ryan a look of reserved disgust, and putting away the pistol, the man led the other two out of the room. Ryan watched after them for a moment, and then strode behind the desk to throw himself into the chair.

This was one question Ryan had not expected at all. He was deeply relieved when the men left without further inquiry so quickly; Ryan did not know if he would have been able to give a valid answer. However, he was worried nonetheless. Even though the crewmen did not press further, he could sense the suspicion and faint, growing loathe in the leading man's eyes. What Ryan had to fear now was mutiny. If the men wanted more information, he would eventually have to give it to them to prevent a full-scale revolt. _I really need Catherine's advice_, Ryan Barbossa thought to himself. A moment after thinking it, he quickly shook his head, trying to erase the idea. She was the whole reason he was in the mess he was in. If he had just told the crew it was she in the beginning, he wouldn't be in this position right now. Still, he did feel a miniscule, deeply obscured feeling of desire and need for her intelligence and presence…

"Sit down, Mr. Evans," Elizabeth said, closing the door to the cabin of the Pursuit behind her. Evans, unsure of what to expect, obliged cautiously, pulling the seat towards the desk.

Elizabeth, after making sure the entrance clicked shut, made her way over to behind the table and pulled out the chair. Gently tucking her dress flat beneath her in a precise, ladylike fashion, she sat graciously and looked across the dark wooden surface at her charge. Evans, still a mite uneasy, shifted slightly in his seat, averting his eyes from Elizabeth.

"Mr. Evans, I have some questions for you. You may find them rude, inconsiderate, or otherwise, but I ask you to answer them straightly. I also ask that you save all your own questions and comments until I am finished so that I may get the information I am looking for. Are we understood?" Elizabeth requested smoothly, a seemingly benign smile upon her face.

Ryan Evans' eyes finally came to rest apprehensively on Elizabeth. "Yes, marm," he replied slowly, "Go ahead."

Elizabeth paused for a moment, thinking about which question she would like to begin the interrogation with. "How is it that you know so much about the young Barbossa?" she asked.

"Now, Mrs. Turner, that's just unfair!" the boy exclaimed as he leapt to his feet, knocking the chair over with the motion.

"Mr. Evans, kindly take a seat and answer the question," Elizabeth said calmly.

Ryan Evans begrudgingly hauled the bench upright and sat again. Sighing resignedly, he gave his answer. "When Jack first heard of Barbossa's remaining crew and how they banded together again, taking Barbossa's only real relative-his sixteen-year-old nephew-on as captain, Jack wanted more information. So he decided to have me keep an eye on this new threat. I was, after all, the same age and would know what a sixteen-year-old would do if he were suddenly made captain of a widely feared pirate crew. I had also proved my mettle as one of the most slick and 'sneaky-minded,' as Jack put it, out of his entire crew and could prove reliable in gaining plenty of information. That was my job, so I found out all I could about Ryan Barbossa," the young man explained, "Satisfied, Mrs. Turner?" he inquired in exasperation.

"Not entirely," she answered curtly, "but we shall leave that subject as it is. Next question: my daughter is obviously enraptured by you. No matter how much I would like to, I cannot deny that you possess a certain charm. However, as her mother it is my duty to ask your intentions."

Evans writhed a little in his seat. "W-well, um, Mrs. Turner," the young man stammered, growing steadily more uncomfortable by the second, "I-I hadn't really thought-I mean, I wasn't really concerned with…I don't exactly know…wh-what you mean by that."

"Come now, Evans. My question was perfectly straightforward. I see no difficulty at all in answering it," Elizabeth said, rising to pour herself a glass of water.

Meanwhile, Catherine had heard the conversation upon passing the cabin on her way down the deck and decided to investigate. After hearing this climax of the discussion, she burst inside, drawing her sword instinctively. Both Evans and Elizabeth started, surprised by the sudden appearance of the irate girl.

"What have you been saying to him mother?" she asked in a low, angered tone, her sword still unsheathed.

"Catherine," Evans and Elizabeth said in unintentional unison. Evans however, spoke softly, placing a calming hand on his friend's shoulder; Elizabeth stared reproachfully at her daughter.

"Out with it," Catherine shouted, "What did you say to him? I know what you'd have liked to hear, but was that the result?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "Mr. Evans, would you please leave us for just a moment? I must talk with Catherine," she said to him icily, her eyes still fixed in a cold glare at Catherine.

Evans whispered hastily in Catherine's ear before departing. "Please don't do anything stupid," he implored, "That's the last thing you need."

"You're trying to get Evans to say that he's working for Barbossa, aren't you?" Catherine raged once the boy was gone. "Don't try to outwit me Mother; I've grown quite good at seeing when people are trying to do that to me. Why? Why do you want Evans to 'confess' that he has relations with Barbossa? What do you have to gain from hearing that? Just because they're the same age-"

"Catherine, I was only trying to protect you," Elizabeth interrupted. Sword still drawn, Catherine did not even venture to look at her. "I just didn't want to see you hurt."

"Well, Mother, I believe that I can handle that quite well on my own, thanks. This is one time where I really question your true motives. I take an interest in a boy and you suddenly want to come rushing to my aid. There have been few times in my life where I can remember you clearly and voluntarily wanting to help me with anything. What with my _perfect_ sister and brothers, I'm beginning to think you simply don't like me. Only because I don't wear proper clothes, don't stay at home learning how to be a woman, and prefer piracy to being the ideal wife. You know, mother, you're really-" Catherine steamed, unwonted tears pricking the back of her eyes.

"Catherine, don't say that!" Elizabeth cried, tears of her own beginning to flow down her face, "I love you. It's not true that I prefer Victoria and the boys to you. I hate it when you do this to me! When all I did for you when you were found back on the ship after you had been shot was stay by your side all night and pray that you would be alright? No, that's not fair of you."

Catherine lowered her eyes and her blade in guilt and reflection, a single ashamed teardrop rolling down her right cheek. Elizabeth continued, "All your life I have praised and provided for you. When you were younger, I was always proud of you, no matter what you did or what the outcome. Now your decisions are of more consequence and I can no longer perpetually praise you. I have always hoped you would do something worthwhile, something that I could be proud of, and although piracy is not the best course I would choose for you, that is your decision and I am happy for you if that is what you want. Your decisions of late, however, have been disappointing for me. I mean, the daughter of a well-to-do family escaping a life of prestige to hunt down pirates? I'll admit," Elizabeth quickly said, seeing a look of indignance on Catherine's face, "I did do the same once, but now we have a choice. We could stay at home and carry on our reputation as upstanding ladies. I know at some point you may want to make this your life, but for the moment I want some say in your choices. I am your mother, after all."

Catherine, tears drying upon her face, raised her head slightly. "And what about Evans? How does he work in here?"

"Catherine, I wanted to talk to him so that I could get to know him. I just don't want to see you hurt again; only this is a different type of pain. You are young and occasionally naïve. I shouldn't want to see your decisions clouded, and I want to find out if this-Ryan, is it?"

"It's _Evans_," Catherine retorted. There was a faint flicker of recognition in Elizabeth's eyes.

"I see. If this Evans is really going to support you, if he isn't like all these other young men. I don't want him to put on an act just to win you over and leave you heartbroken whenever he wants. I want him to be the real thing, if you take my meaning," she stated.

"And did he pass your little test?" Catherine sneered, offended that her mother would question Evans' reliability.

Elizabeth raised her brow matter-of-factly. "Actually, I think he seemed rather genuine and charming. Though there is more to him than I think he chose to tell me yet, I will most likely find out eventually. Well, Catherine, we are almost to the island and we'd best go on deck and lend the boys a hand, don't you think?" Elizabeth concluded, rising and striding over to the door. She looked back to Catherine, the door half open. "Are you coming?" she asked.

Catherine, her eyes downcast, quickly looked upward. "Yes, I'll be along in a minute," she replied. Elizabeth nodded once and left, shutting the entrance behind her.

Catherine lingered in the center of the cabin for a moment, reflecting on what her mother had told her. Most of it was true. Elizabeth had been supportive when Catherine was younger; it seemed so long ago now and the circumstances so different that Catherine had nearly forgotten. But those doubts about Evans-that was unacceptable. Elizabeth had definitely crossed the line, deliberately trying to make Evans say that he was once a part of Ryan Barbossa's crew even though it was false. Still, Elizabeth had said it was all an attempt to protect her. She had at least seemed fairly serious and honorable. Catherine's head was spinning with conflicting emotions. Did she want to forgive her mother? Or had Elizabeth breached the fine line that separated the possibility of reconciliation and the unforgivable? Catherine sighed and placed her hand on the doorknob, sheathing her rapier. She really needed Ryan Barbossa's advice.

The door to the brig creaked slowly open. Will sat up, startled by the sudden sound. A pair of feet appeared first, followed by the lean, strong form of Ryan Barbossa. Will glared in annoyed resistance at the intruder and slumped back into the dark wood of the corner, hoping that Ryan's only purpose for being below deck was simply to check the stores. But this was not so. Ryan Barbossa, upon reaching the base of the steps, approached the cold metal bars of Will's cell and stood, arms akimbo, staring down at his captive.

"Turner," Ryan addressed him in a hushed bark.

Will responded simply by looking back up at his interrogator through narrowed eyes and moving smoothly into a standing position. He leaned his back against the wooden hull of the ship, arms crossed in front of him.

"There is positively no question that you sail with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow," Ryan continued, "so I won't even bother asking. However, there is a question of where and why you are sailing. My men and I have seen your ship, as well as the _Black Pearl_ sailing quite near us of late. Why? Is it simply by chance or doe there happen to be some hidden agenda?" the young man asked, pacing thoughtfully in front of the iron-barred cell door.

Will stepped away from the wall, advancing upon his side of the door, and glared even more fiercely at Ryan. "If you're looking for other information, you'll not find here," Will replied coolly.

Ryan gripped the chilled metal bars, drawing his face quickly closer to Will's. "Don't attempt to make me think I don't know what's going on," the young man growled softly, "I know exactly what you're after. And believe me, you will most assuredly not get it. You see, I have already seduced your daughter into giving me some information, as well as got her to think she can trust me. All it took, really," Ryan finished treacherously, "was a shot in the side." And with that, he left Will steaming, but with a placid yet thoughtful look on his face.

As Ryan stepped slowly up the stairs to the main deck, he thought. Who was he kidding? He loved Catherine. He couldn't lie about her. It practically killed him to speak of her "seduction." It would be hard, harder than even he could imagine, following through with the plan once the time came…

Aboard the _Pursuit_, spirits were high as Catherine reentered the sunlight of the main deck. As she went over to sit by Evans, she caught sight of Gibbs fishing through the small storage closet aside of the cabin.

"What's he doing in there?" she inquired.

Evans shrugged. "Says he's got a surprise he's been saving for a time like this somewhere in there. I don't know what he's talking about, though. Gibbs isn't one who easily surprises."

At that moment, Gibbs resurfaced, bearing a smallish, stringed instrument and a bow.

"It's a fiddle!" Catherine laughed incredulously, "I didn't know he had that kind of talent."

Evans joined in the laughter, leaning against the side of the ship. "Oh my God," he announced, "So that's what it was."

Bearing his instrument out into the center of the deck, Gibbs proudly settled it on his shoulder. Jack appeared on deck, holding a number of bottles filled with liquor. "Ah, Gibbs," he proclaimed, hurrying over to pass out drinks to everyone-except Elizabeth. He knew her taste for rum had long since gone, "Let's have a good one this time around."

Gibbs nodded. "Right. But I'll need a beat to start with. I think young Evans here ca provide that," the man smiled, acknowledging Ryan with a nod.

Evans thought for a moment, and then began tapping out a quick, steady rhythm on the thick wooden deck. Gibbs waited for the correct beat, and then flew into a lively, rapid sea shanty. Once Gibbs had found the rhythm, Evans stood and came up with a fairly improvised dance, still holding his open rum bottle in his left hand. A moment after, he threw a hand down to Catherine for her to join him. Laughing, she shook her head. "Come on," he pleaded jokingly.

Taking another deep swig for confidence, Catherine obliged, leaving Jack clapping along with the rhythm on the sidelines.

Evans and Catherine skipped and jigged across and area of the deck for a minute until the song was finished, then collapsed dizzy and almost half-drunk, laughing together on the timber floor.

"I love that song!" Jack cried after drinking deeply and falling next to the breathless pair. Shaking with mirth, Catherine fell backwards from her sitting position into a flattened state on the deck. She drank again from the bottle and giggled.

"That was fun," she gasped between sniggers.

Jack gazed up at Gibbs, who had since stored his instrument away and indulged in his own bottle of rum. "I praise you, Gibbs. That was one of the better ones you've played of late," he said.

"I thank you, Jack. That's one of the nicer things you've said of late," Gibbs responded, sending his comrades into a new fit of laughter. Even Elizabeth could be seen up on the quarterdeck chuckling to herself.

Just then, however, their sounds of glee were interrupted by a cal from the upper deck, where Elizabeth had shifted her gaze to the horizon. "I think-yes! That's it! We've reached the island!"

The _Regency_ came to a grinding halt near the shores of the Isla del Muerto. Ryan Barbossa stood on the main deck, the cool breeze of an approaching storm blowing through his golden-brown hair.

Shortly, a scraggly crewman approached Ryan from behind. "Sir," he stated, "It's the _Pursuit_, just comin' up quickly on us."

Ryan kept his eyes straight. "Very good."

"Which ones did you want us to take again?" the man inquired.

"I thought I told you this several times; Turner's wife. You'll no doubt recognize her. And the boy- be _sure_ to get the boy." Ryan replied, stressing the last part.

The man nodded and went to the opposite side of the deck, leaving Ryan once more in solitude. He crossed his arms in front of him and stood in silence, mentally reviewing his plan as he stared into the pinky-orange sky. It would be hard-not in accomplishing the plan, but in dealing with it. After all, it was Catherine's mother. He would enjoy, however, leaving the other; the Evans boy. The idea of him dying on the island was like a dream. One less competitor to worry about. Still, Catherine's reaction…

Ryan sighed. Nevertheless, it had to be done.

"So Anamaria's on the other side of the island by now, correct?" Elizabeth posed.

"Correct," answered Evans, looping a rope around a hanger on the ship's side.

"She and her crew are going to assemble inside the cave to prepare a counterattack on Barbossa's crew, correct?" she continued.

Gibbs came towards them, dropping a load of ropes and canvas on the deck. "That's right," he supplemented.

"And we wait until his crew goes inside," Catherine stated before Elizabeth could ask, "Then we go in and get them from behind, taking them by surprise."

"Alright then. Let's wait," Elizabeth replied resignedly, going over to take a seat against the mast. The others went about in a similar fashion, each finding a spot to suit their wishes and needs.

Each delving into their own thoughts, some with closed eyes, others staring into space, none saw nor heard the men come up behind them until it was too late. Catherine, Gibbs, and Jack were all knocked carelessly unconscious and bound. Elizabeth and Evans on the other hand were first gagged from behind, as to ensure they would not shout and wake the others. They were then also bound, although more loosely than their companions. Without ever getting a good look at their assailants, the five were hauled roughly over the edge of the _Pursuit_ into the dark, choppy waters below…

Ryan Barbossa, upon seeing from the quarterdeck of the _Regency_ that his men were departing from the _Pursuit_, called to a nearby pirate. "Bring Turner-bound. I would hate for him to miss the fun," Ryan said, still staring into the distance.

Shortly after, the whole crew assembled on the deck, along with a bound and gagged Will, awaiting the arrival of the five who had gone to the _Pursuit_ and their prisoners. Just then, ten figures appeared-five who walked and five carried. Will gasped. They had captured Catherine, Evans, Jack, Gibbs…and Elizabeth? This was too much.

"Ah yes," Ryan began in a sarcastically friendly tone, "So kind of you to join us. We were just preparing for a little…_party_ you might say." By now, Catherine, Jack and Gibbs were awake, alert, and astonished. "However," Ryan continued, "it would seem as though I failed to plan ahead. I'm afraid we only have accommodations for three. Hmm…that's terrible," he acted, furrowing his brow in feigned reproach. The crewmen laughed cruelly, knowing what was coming. "I could probably house all of you tonight, but the extra two shall have to leave in the morning. Yes, I'm sorry, but…you," Ryan said sorrowfully, indicating Evans, who simply glared in fury and determination at his captor, "and you, my dear lady," Ryan walked near Elizabeth and paused, "will have to depart first thing in the morning.

"For now, I believe a little reunion is in order, and then we will show you to your accommodations." Ryan strode back through the crowd, nodding to two men who were to escort the prisoners to the brig.

Their gags were removed as Elizabeth and Will approached each other. "Elizabeth," Will gasped. That was all that could be said though, because shortly after they drew near each other, they were pushed down into separate cells along with Gibbs, Catherine, Evans, and Jack. Thus, the night ended.

The next morning found Elizabeth and Evans being coaxed forcibly off the ship. They had come to a small, sandy island with a slight scattering of palm trees early on that morning.

Elizabeth was first in line. Her bonds had been cut, but she knew better than to attempt an escape. As she approached the long wooden board laid out over the water off the edge of the ship, a number of jeers arose from the crowd of crewmen gathered nearby. Elizabeth looked up at the island, recognizing the clear, turquoise waters and the white sands. "How did they find that bloody island?" she hissed to herself.

More cries from the crowd were heard, this time urging her to dive into the ocean below. She turned curtly to face the men. "Well, I should hate to disappoint you fine gentlemen," Elizabeth sneered sardonically. She didn't take time to examine their looks of confusion and lack of understanding; Elizabeth leapt from the plank into the aqua green waters below and began swimming.

Next, Evans was roughly shoved into place on the plank. His hands were still bound, but he looked at Ryan Barbossa with his chin held high in a resolute and dignified manner. Seeing him being forced onto the thin wooden board, Catherine fought to release herself from the grip of her captors, but to no avail; she was tightly restrained.

"Leave him alone, Ryan Barbossa!" she called from her position, held beside Will. Ryan turned to look at her and drew his sword. He pointed it towards her and stared down the blade at her.

"Oh, it's not me who'll be hurting him," the young man said cruelly, "it's the sun and the scavenger birds." Some of the crew laughed at his comment, enjoying their captain's taunts. Catherine struggled to get at him, her pent-up anger trying to escape. Ryan Barbossa then turned back to Evans and positioned the tip of his sword at the boy's throat. "No!" Catherine cried, fighting more fiercely. One of the men behind her drew out a rag and placed it in her mouth, silencing her.

Ryan Barbossa, meanwhile, ignored the girl's resistance. "Off you go," he said to Evans in a low tone, still holding his sword in place.

The boy did not go, however. "My sword and a pistol," Ryan Evans said in a strong voice.

Barbossa looked at him, uncomprehending.

"I would have my sword and a pistol with one shot," Evans replied, loud enough for all to hear. A flicker of pride and remembrance went unnoticed across Jack's face.

"Ah yes. I'd hate to break a long-standing tradition," Ryan Barbossa called, never averting his eyes from Evans or lowering his blade, "Bring forward a pistol and his sword."

Both were delivered to the young man, and with one last courageous and tenacious look at Barbossa, Evans dove over the side of the ship.

Elizabeth waded ashore, closely followed by Evans. When she reached a high point in the sand, she threw herself down to the ground, avoiding Evans' gaze.

"How are we to go about getting off this island?" the boy sighed once he reached the shore. He began to pace around Elizabeth, thinking hard. The woman, however, did not respond; she simply stared in frustration at the departing ship. "If we…no, that wouldn't work. Do you have any ideas?" he inquired, looking hopefully down at Elizabeth, hands on his hips. "Really, I'm open to suggestions."

Elizabeth simply crossed her arms, huffed, and changed position so that she had her back to her marooning companion. Evans growled in annoyance. "You're going to have to talk to me sometime!" he shouted. Again, no response. The boy threw up his arms in resignation, scowled, and began walking to the center of the island. He came across a fairly large, bare patch of sand, untouched by beach grass. Dusting away a bit of the sand angrily, Evans saw a crease. He brushed away more sand in the center of a side and uncovered a large metal handle. Standing, Evans pulled on the handle, which opened a large, door like opening in the sand and revealed a dugout pit full of shelves stocked with three or four cases' worth of rum on each one. Evans' eyes lit up, realizing that this was the same island that Jack had been marooned on twice before, once with Elizabeth. _So that's why she's so bitter_, the young man thought to himself briefly. Scanning the shelves with a sharp eye before descending the short wooden ladder, his eyes lit up at the prospect of all that liquor, even if it was however many years old. It would just be aged better, sweetened with time, the boy decided, and ventured down into the dim storage room. He selected three bottles-two for himself and well…Elizabeth could use a mental break. She had stress enough for both of them, so good, well-seasoned rum might do her some good. Tossing a bottle lightly in the air and catching it again, Ryan Evans sighed and began his stroll across the island.

Two figures drunkenly danced in the sand around a small fire, howling out the words to an old pirate shanty as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. It had been seven hours since Ryan Evans convinced Elizabeth to accept a bottle of rum, and it had been half an hour since she topped off her sixth bottle and progressed to a seventh. Once their out-of-tune song was finished, both inhabitants of the small island collapsed onto the sand laughing, both completely inebriated.

"Tell me again," Evans drawled, "How badly do you want to get off this island, Elizabeth?"

"Oh, terribly," came the intoxicated reply, "though I must say, I greatly prefer your company to that of the infamous Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth added, placing a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"First of all, it's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth," Evans corrected, looking concernedly at her hand, "Secondly, you are clearly crossing the line here."

"What do you mean?" she replied, furrowing her brow.

"I mean, if I remember correctly, you are married and I am not sure you have had enough rum to speak that way."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth slurred, now leaning on Evans' shoulder.

"Oh come, come now, I believe you know exactly what I mean," Evans slowly answered, his annunciation growing steadily worse. Elizabeth gave him what would be a questioning look. Evans sniggered. "_Clearly_ it means that I can hold my liquor far better than you can!"

Elizabeth gazed at her companion skeptically, still processing the information. At that moment, she let loose a soft belch and in doing so, sent both of them into a mad fit of the giggles. Once their laughter had subsided, Evans raised his bottle. "To escape," he toasted.

"To companionship," Elizabeth answered, raising her own bottle. They clinked bottle together and drank deeply, both passing out on the white sand of the small island.

An indignant figure stamped her way up he wooden plank stairs from the brig to the min deck. Disregarding all crewmembers, she approached the cabin door. Not even bothering to knock, she opened the door and entered the large, fairly ornate cabin.

"Catherine!" Ryan Barbossa exclaimed, somewhat startled at her sudden appearance. He quickly recovered and fell into his usual, charming tone. "I didn't expect you."

Catherine glared back at him. "You should've known I'd be up here. That is, of course, providing you understand what matters to me."

The young man's face was blank and somewhat confused.

"Damn it, Ryan, why do you do this to me?" Catherine cried, slamming a fist down upon the desktop, "You know at least I care for my mother. Why would you leave her marooned if you really wanted to please me? And Evans-we'll not even touch upon that matter."

"Catherine, as captain of an enemy ship, there are decisions that must be made-" the young man tried to explain.

"Decisions?" she steamed, breaking him off, "No, Ryan. This is spite. You're doing this for another reason."

"No! Catherine, if you'll just let me explain," pleaded Ryan Barbossa as he circled Catherine to place a hand on her shoulder and pull her closer to him. She simply shrugged him off roughly and held up a hand to detain him.

"Ryan, I'm past all your 'explaining.' All you've ever done to me is lie. You've just lied to get me on your side." Ryan tried to protest, but all attempts were lost on the fuming Catherine. "How can I trust that anything you say to me is true? I bet you knew all along about who your uncle was. You've probably always wanted to be like him. And you had to lie to me about that? Really. And I fell for it!" Catherine's eyes started to mist over with sorrow and frustration. "I actually believed you. I'm so stupid, so…so completely--." Her closing words were lost as she collapsed against Ryan Barbossa with a flood of anguished tears. Ryan pulled her closer to him once more, and this time she did not resist. Sobbing with frustration and exhaustion into Ryan's shoulder, Catherine forgot about the world around her for one long, still moment. He guided her over to the bedlike cot and the pair sat down, Catherine still crying into his shoulder. Ryan placed his chin gently on her bent head and the pair sat in silence for what seemed like forever.

Neither would have known it, but the two of them-who had just argued so fiercely-would find themselves in each other's arms the following morning.

Catherine and Ryan Barbossa were not the only two surprised to find themselves in each other's embrace in the morning.

Elizabeth's eyes flickered open. Blinking back the sudden brightness of the sun, she came to realize that a hand rested on her shoulder. Rolling over to see whom the hand belonged to, she was in for the shock of a lifetime…

Seeing that Evans was lying next to her, Elizabeth lurched sharply backward and cried out, brushing off the shoulder his hand had lain on. Elizabeth stood, shaking off the initial surprise of the sight she arose to. Suddenly, the reality of her predicament hit her. How was she going to get off the island?! She couldn't think of any way to light another fire; the palm trees were still too short for a large enough signal. Perhaps she could steal Evans' shirt to make a flag before he woke up… Too late. The boy groaned and rolled over onto his side, holding a hand to his intensely aching head. Elizabeth turned to look back out to sea, partially waiting for him to join her. She scanned the horizon for any sign of sails and brushed the hair out of her face that had been blown there by the wind. At that moment, she heard a slight sloshing sound. Elizabeth looked to see what had caused the noise, and saw Evans wading into the shallows. Elizabeth scowled, reminded of the myth about how Jack Sparrow supposedly escaped the island.

"You know that sea turtle thing won't work!" she called, averting her eyes form him.

"You know what?" he responded, "I don't need you criticism. I'm trying to get you off this bloody island, so don't question it." And with that, he sat down in the low water. Elizabeth glared at him in outrage. She then stomped off to another corner of the island.

"How bad do you want to get off this island, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth quoted Evans in a mocking tone as she thundered down the shoreline, "How bad do you want-you have _no bloody idea_!" she shouted, turning briefly to look back at the small shape far down the coast. Looking up from the sand, nearly snorting with rage, she saw the hull of the _Black Pearl _floating just offshore from where she stood. A small lifeboat slowly rowed its way toward the shore. "Well, he didn't catch a sea turtle," Elizabeth said, staring at the ship.

In the brig of the _Regency_, Catherine Turner was just silently letting herself back into her empty cell. Will, Jack, and Gibbs slumbered on, so Catherine did not want them to discover she had been gone when they awoke. As she closed the metal grate, the rusted hinges creaked in a piercing whine. Annoyed by the sound, she hurriedly shut the door all the way and scrambled into the corner, feigning sleep. The high-pitched noise roused the other three out of sleep, and Catherine cautiously opened her eyes, making it seem as though she too were just waking.

"Where have you been?" Jack inquired, looking at Catherine.

Catherine acted as though she had no clue as to what he was saying. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I was awake all night. I saw you leave and not return. I fell asleep just before dawn and just woke to see you come back," Jack explained, mildly triumphant.

Will looked at his daughter in concern, his eyes narrowing in question. "What is he talking about, Catherine?"

Catherine shook her head slowly, nervously. She was in too deep now. What would her father say?

"You know exactly what I'm saying. Don't think I didn't know that you've been seeing Ryan Barbossa," Jack sneered slightly, savoring the self-admonishment in Catherine's face and the looks of astonishment on those of Will and Gibbs.

"Jack, I can honestly say that I have no idea what you mean by this. I haven't been anywhere," Catherine remarked, masking the nervousness in her voice.

Will stood, a bit unnerved and unsure if he wanted his daughter to respond to what he requested. "Catherine, please just tell the truth."

The girl choked back a single tear of anguish, thinking about how she basically betrayed her father and friends. She took one deep breath and, eyes downcast, said, "It's true-I was seeing Ryan Barbossa."

Will felt as though he had swallowed a brick. He shook his head slowly-once, twice-with rage, not wanting to believe what he heard. As much as he didn't want to explode in the former tradition of Elizabeth, he wanted to shout all the more. At last, he could no longer contain himself.

"Catherine!" he bellowed, "Why would you do this? Why? You've completely fallen into his trap. You-I can't believe you would do this to me, to Jack…even to Evans. _He_ doesn't know. I don't know what he would do. Just-I can't believe you had the audacity to…why didn't you simply aim the cannon at us yourself? It may well have been easier," Will snapped. He sighed, making a resolution. "Catherine, you are forbidden from seeing him again. And you must be the one to battle him in the cave," Will said, staring disappointedly at his daughter. Catherine gasped silently, her eyes growing wide with fear and moderate sorrow.

At that moment, Jack sauntered up to the door of his cell, leaning on the grate. "I have an idea," he grinned. Will turned, exasperated, to look at Jack.

"What is it?" chorused Will and Catherine, mildly interested.

Jack smiled surreptitiously and looked at the two each in turn out of the corner of his eye. "She tells him that we're going to, say, attack from one side of the island when we're really coming from somewhere else?"

"What do you mean?" asked Will and Gibbs, who had just become very interested in the conversation.

"You're going to use me to give Ryan Barbossa a false plan as to where we're going to attack," Catherine explained, looking absently at the ground.

"Precisely," Jack grinned.

"We are not going back for them," Elizabeth said fairly loudly while chasing after Anamaria.

The latter had paid little attention to Elizabeth from the time she and Evans were rescued from the island and brought onboard the _Pearl_. At this point in time, Elizabeth was really getting on Anamaria's nerves, so she was forced to respond. "What would you like me to do? We have to get back to the island. What about the plan? We're supposed to help them stop Barbossa, and we might be the only ones who'll be able to stop him now," Anamaria argued, whirling around on the second stair up to the quarterdeck to face Elizabeth.

"There is no way I am going to allow this! If my husband and daughter decide to make poor decisions, can I really help that? And Jack," Elizabeth scoffed, "He goes without saying. His whole life is about bad decisions."

At that moment, a medium-height, slender girl who looked no older than Catherine stepped out form behind Anamaria. She had a long, unruly tangle of dark tresses, and her eyes were the shade of steeped tea. Across her face was a supercilious scowl, befitting of her ragged appearance and demeanor.

"Mrs. Turner, I'd like you to meet my _daughter_, Mariana Sparrow," Anamaria said, never taking her narrowed eyes off Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly. Somehow this was unsurprising, but it still came as a bit of a shock. To think that now Jack had a daughter (at least-who knew if there were more?)…Elizabeth recovered, her eyes shifting from Mariana to Anamaria. "Well," she said, "I still see no good reason to turn around and return to the island. What good would come of it? And what's the benefit for _you_? You've always looked first for an opportunity to gain something for yourself."

Evans, who until now had followed the pair in silence, could no longer stand for it. "Mrs. Turner, you have a husband and daughter who both love you. At the moment, their lives are in real danger. How can you stand here, just shrugging them off like this? Think about it. What if you went back to your lovely, comfortable home in Port Royal? What would you say to your other children? 'Oh, Catherine isn't coming home because I left her and your father to die at the hands of a band of ruthless pirates?' I can't believe you," he shook his head and turned to stalk off to the other end of the ship.

Elizabeth's eyes were cast to the floor. It was true, what Evans had said. She felt mildly sick to her stomach thinking about how selfish she must have sounded.

Anamaria knew what to do. Without a word from Elizabeth, she nodded once to Mariana, who raised her chin and shouted to the crew.

"Hoist the sails! Weigh anchor! Set a course for the Isla del Muerto!"

Ryan Barbossa paced restlessly in a tight circle. He was in a tighter position now than he had ever been. Should he-what _should_ he do? He couldn't even think of one possible solution to his problem. Catherine hated him. His crew was tossed between mutinous feelings and the desire for revenge, and the men were potentially incontrollable. At this point, the world was against him. How could he get both his crew and Catherine on their good sides again? Ryan Barbossa quickly came up with an idea. He strode, a bit more confident now, over to the door of the cabin. He beckoned to the two men closest to the doorway in which he stood. They entered the small room, gently closing the door behind them.

"What's this all about, Cap'n Barbossa?" questioned one of the men in mild confusion as he scratched at the back of his head.

"I have a question for you gentlemen," said Ryan as he rubbed his hands together, half answering the man's question. "What do you think I should do about the Turner girl?" he asked.

The men looked at each other, possibly more confused than when they entered the room. "Eh," said the second of the two men, a portly, stringy-haired man, "What d'you mean by that, sir?"

"What should I say? How can I get her to fall into my trap? How do I pull the wool over her eyes, fool her, trick her, however you choose to say it? I need to find a way to get her to the cave tomorrow night for the battle."

"Eh, sir? I think I 'ave an idea," supplied the first man, steeping forward a little.

"Well, out with it! Why didn't you tell me before?" cried Ryan, gripping the man's shoulders and pulling him forward.

"You could tell 'er that we was goin' to attack from one side o' the island, an' we'll really go from the other side?" suggested the man, bracing himself in case Ryan Barbossa did not look favorably upon the idea. However, the young man was overjoyed at the plan.

"Excellent! Now that I have that, I know some changes I can make to make it even better…"

It was just past midday when Catherine saw a pair of familiar feet at the door of her cell. She looked up, a bit surprised.

"Ryan!" she gasped softly. Then, with a secretive glance from Will, she suddenly remembered what she had been instructed to do. Sobering slightly, she continued as she stood up. "What are you doing down here?"

"I wish to see you in my cabin for a moment," Ryan replied.

Catherine quickly looked at her father for any sort of a reaction, but there was none. "Very well," she answered, raising her chin and trying to outdo his feint of seriousness. Ryan pulled open the cell door and led her out into the open. As she left, she looked at Jack, Gibbs, and Will each in turn, nodding once slightly to each.

Once the two were in the cabin and Catherine had shut the door behind them, it was clear that each was hiding something. The air took on a surreal feeling of discomfort and doubt as Catherine and Ryan Barbossa slid into the two chairs adjacent to the desk. Ryan inched forward in his seat a little once Catherine made herself comfortable.

"Catherine, I have wanted to tell you something since the day I met you. I admit, I haven't given you much reason to trust me, but I now realize that I can no longer hide my feelings from you. I love you," he said, looking deep into the girl's eyes. This was no surprise to her, and she simply sat there and listened to what he had to say. "It is because of this affection for you that I must tell you of our plan of attack on the island tomorrow evening."

At this, Catherine's heart sank considerably. She had no reserve plan, no backup. Should she just tell him what she had planned, or let him speak his piece and leave it at that? She decided to remain silent and use his information to plan accordingly.

"Go on," she nodded slowly.

"The men are planning to approach the caves from the back end of the island, breaking into two parts and circling around to the front of the main cave in an ambush. I would hope that you would use this information to plan your own attack. I must also let you know," Ryan quickly continued as though he had suddenly remembered something, "that you, Jack, and Gibbs are free to go. I think you would need to prepare for tomorrow. I'll let you out when we go below again."

Catherine's head was still spinning from Ryan's "stealing" her idea, and it was because of this that she did not fully process the information presented to her. Simply nodding to acknowledge the fact that she had heard him, Catherine rose from her seat and started for the door. A second later, however, Ryan caught her by the arm. He looked with a slight sense of melancholy into her eyes ad escorted her out onto the deck. And thus, arm in arm, Ryan Barbossa and Catherine Turner walked together for what would be the very last time.

"Father, I've done all I can for now," murmured Catherine, who knelt at the foot of the cell door, her father looking at her from the opposite side. "I'm sorry that you can't come with us. I could really use your guidance."

Will gazed into his daughter's dark eyes. She had grown to be so much of a leader in these past two months. It was hard to believe it had even been that long. "Catherine, understand that you have become someone who should be highly respected and someone who should be listened to. Although you may feel as though you need me, know that you opinions are of equal value and greatness to mine, Jack's, Gibbs', and everyone else's. Now go, take Jack and Gibbs as your crew, meet up with Anamaria, and lead your crew into battle. Also know that in victory or failure, no matter the outcome, you are my daughter and I am proud of you."

At noon of that same day, the Black Pearl sighted the Isla del Muerto and began its flight into the waters offshore.

"We're bearing down upon the island," declared Ryan Evans as he strode up to the quarterdeck where Anamaria, Elizabeth, and Mariana stood, looking boldly in the direction of the short grey strip of land that was steadily growing closer on the horizon. "At last," he continued, "the final stretch."

"Circle to the back of the island. We'll moor there," suggested Mariana. Her mother made the appropriate adjustments and the four fell into silence once more.

About an hour or so later when they were a short distance from the island, Elizabeth noticed a shape moving along the coastline. Walking over to the railing, she narrowed her eyes and looked closer. "There's another ship," she said to the others, pointing out what she saw, "It's a smaller, lighter-built craft. It's moving to the side of the island we're headed for."

Evans rushed over to stand next to her, shielding his eyes with a hand. "It's the _Pursuit_!" he called. "I'd know that ship anywhere. Catherine and Jack must be on it with Will and Gibbs. But how did they escape from Barbossa's ship?" he wondered out loud.

"We'll soon find out," replied Anamaria solemnly.

"Jack, there's a ship approaching us from the port side," called Catherine, her brow furrowed with curiosity and concern.

Even through the thick, silvery fog, Jack did not need his spyglass to identify the intruding vessel. He looked at it from his place near the base of the mainmast. Jack believed his eyes were fooling him when he saw what ship it was. "It can't be!" he exclaimed, partly to himself as he briskly strode over to the port side of the _Pursuit_.

"What is it?" Catherine inquired, dashing up behind him. "Is it bad?"

"I never thought they would come," Jack replied, his eyes fixed on the large ship, "It's the _Pearl_."

Spirits soared as certain crewmembers from each ship were reunited. The moment Catherine noticed that Evans was aboard the Black Pearl, her heart fluttered in ecstasy. Once a plank had been lowered connecting the two ships, Evans raced across into the girl's waiting arms.

"Oh, thank heaven you're alright," sighed Catherine as she hugged her friend tightly. The two stepped back a little from each other.

"Yes, but I have learned something about being marooned," Evans smiled, still holding Catherine's shoulders lightly.

"What's that?" she replied hopefully.

"Never to get yourself marooned with the mother of the person you love."

Catherine laughed. This was so like him, to make a joke about some mishap with Elizabeth. At least he was in good humor about her. At that moment, Jack's voice rang across the deck of the Pursuit bearing Catherine's and Evans' names. The pair followed the sound of his call to the cabin of the ship, where they noticed upon entry that Jack, Elizabeth, Gibbs, Anamaria, and Mariana had already assembled for a meeting. The two slid in between Jack and Gibbs, and it was immediately evident that they were planning the attack on Barbossa's crew on the following evening.

"So, now that we have our two main people here, we can begin," Jack started, leaning on the desk and assessing each of the others in turn. "Now, this is a matter dealing mainly with Catherine, our younger Turner, so I shall allow her to take the floor. From this moment until I give the word, she is your captain."

Catherine, while moderately stunned, had a strange feeling that she expected this to happen. She composed herself with ease, switching places with Jack so that she was at the head of the room. Over the course of a few seconds, Catherine evaluated the reactions of everyone surrounding her. Evans was beaming, proud of his best friend and her achievement. Gibbs didn't hide his emotions; he grinned and clapped her soundly on the back. Anamaria wasn't fazed, and Catherine saw a flicker of disgust and envy flash across Mariana's face. Finally, the girl's eyes came to rest on Elizabeth. The woman smiled with gentle pride and nodded once to her daughter. Catherine's face broke into a grin, touched by her mother's feelings. It was then time to get down to business.

"As you all know," Catherine began, "this is the eve of our battle against the forces of Ryan Barbossa. I hope you all know that you are part of the greatest crew ever to sail the seas, and that our victory has already been gained. However, to ensure the precise execution of that victory, we are met to clarify our plan of attack. Before I lay my own ideas upon the table, does anyone have any suggestions?"

Instantly, Mariana broke in. "What if we split into two columns-one main, larger group and a smaller one? The second group could remain in the central cave while the main party circled around, surrounding Barbossa's crew for ambush," the girl replied matter-of-factly.

Catherine nodded, digesting the idea. "That sounds good. I think there is some way we can integrate that into the grander plan," she answered, "I know for a fact that Barbossa's crew plans to enter the caves from the front end, possibly preparing an ambush of their own to our back. This I'm not fully sure about, but it must be considered." Catherine then looked down quickly to the table, searching for a paper and charcoal to write with. Finding one, she motioned the others to come nearer. She sketched out a rough outlay of the caves, using arrows to represent movement of the individual groups.

"Say this is our supposed second group," she said, motioning towards the side of the drawing. "They will be led in through this passage," she drew a short line form the left side to the right, pointing to the center, "and we will give you the signal to enter. Anamaria? You and Mariana will lead the main group around to ambush Barbossa's crew. Your group will consist of most of your crew-I would like some to remain onboard the Pearl in case anyone attempts to take her or they try to escape. I will lead the second group, which will be comprised of Jack, Gibbs, Evans, Mother, and myself. Because you will have the element of surprise on your side, your group won't have to do much of the dirty work. I certainly hope you will not make it so that you have to. My group's duty will be to enlist a frontal assault on Barbossa's men, rescue my father, and to keep the enemy back while I engage in the fight to the death and the fate of the world. Got it?" Catherine finished, all the while sketching out her plan on the scrap sheet. Six heads went up and down, signifying that all understood. "Alright then," Catherine smiled, proud of her crew, "Let's go save the world!"

It was the next day. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon, sending the sky into soft shades of pink, orange, and purple. Catherine stood on the quarterdeck, looking out to the island, nervous and anxious over what she had to do in a matter of hours. Evans came up behind her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder, causing the girl to jump in surprise. Catherine whirled around to face the intruder, but sighed in relief when she saw it was only the boy.

"Worried about the battle?" Evans inquired softly.

"Not so much. I'm more concerned about leading people who are older and more seasoned than I am," Catherine answered with a sigh.

"I know exactly what you mean," Ryan Evans answered, leaning against the railing, "When I became captain of my own ship, I felt awkward and uncertain, but I soon realized that they all respected me as their leader and would follow me anywhere."

Catherine nodded, glad for her friend's support. She turned back to face the island, searching out the cave where she and her forces would enter. At that moment, Jack appeared unexpectedly behind the two.

"Catherine, I would like to speak with you in the cabin for a minute," he said, laying a hand lightly upon her arm. As he started to escort her away, he turned his head to explain to Evans, "It's just a little pre-battle talk, that's all."

He led the girl down into the cabin, making sure the door was closed. He remained standing, as did Catherine. "I haven't gotten any real chances to speak with you until now," he began, looking solemnly at the girl, "And provided the circumstances, I believe there is no better time to talk than now."

The girl stood silently, waiting for Jack to say what he had brought her for. "I know that you have been seeing Ryan Barbossa, as I told you before. However, there is a question of your loyalty to him."

Catherine's eyes were serious as she said, "Yes, Jack. I knew that this would be a problem. You see, we had an argument and-"

"Catherine, there would not be any reason for you having come back to that brig in the morning if there was not more to it. I have a feeling that after that argument, something else happened between you, something that would have reunited both of you," he interrupted, "And I also believe that you still have feelings for that boy."

Catherine grew slightly defensive. "Jack, I'm not enamored by him any more. We're not that close," she said, turning to face a different way. Jack inched forward to look at her from the side.

"But you still love him, don't you?" he asked knowingly.

She set her jaw, knowing it was true. She didn't have to answer for Jack to know what her answer was. "That's what I thought," he said.

"Jack, I know. I do love him still. He's just so hard not to like once you get to know him, and it's terrible trying to stop liking him when you want to. It's just-"

"Catherine," Jack cut in, "You're falling into his trap."

"I know! As much as I want to, I can't bring myself to want to kill him. He-"

"The seas will not be safe until he dies!" Jack snapped, his voice growing a bit louder.

Catherine looked away, her eyes itching with tears. "I know. I just can't think about it just yet. But I will follow through, Jack. I swear I will," the girl said, her resolution making her stronger. The tears of sadness that had just welled up behind her eyes became tears of anger and vengeance with the remembrance that her father still had to be rescued. None flowed forth, though, and Jack placed a grim but proud hand on her shoulder.

"I know you will," he said quietly. The pair walked back out onto the quarterdeck with Evans, who had waited for them to return. The boy watched them approach and gave them the news.

"Anamaria just gave word that a lookout had spotted Barbossa leading his crew and a bound Will into the caves. It looked like some of the crew was still on the Regency, waiting to enter until she left the Pearl. It's probably best you took us out now to prepare for our attack," the boy suggested.

Catherine agreed. "Right then. Tell Gibbs and my mother that we're leaving in five minutes and that they'd best arm themselves soon. I'll meet you on the main deck on the starboard side at that time."

"Very good," Jack said, departing to spread the word, mentally grumbling. It would take him a little while to warm up to the idea of him being the one who was ordered instead of doing the ordering himself.

Ten minutes later saw Catherine, Evans, Jack, Elizabeth, and Gibbs meandering their way through the intricate cave systems of the Isla del Muerto. They had hidden the small jollyboat they had landed on the island in amongst the rocks and coves at the edge of the island. The group had found an aperture in the rock through which they entered, beginning their venture into the heart of the caverns. Everyone had weapons at the ready, including Elizabeth who had, surprisingly, enjoyed the prospect of seeing some action. She had taken a pistol from the cabin of the Pursuit, and Catherine had convinced her to bring a sword as well. Elizabeth had been the damsel in distress for the last time, and was excited for battle. It was her time to show the rest of them that she could do something for a change.

So at long last they had come. Catherine led the short string of people that was her group through the narrow passageways, drawing them ever closer to the hornet's nest. A short while after they struck out into the caves, weaving steadily towards the center of the island, Evans paused unexpectedly, causing a disruption in the ranks.

"What is it?" Catherine asked the boy quietly after the group came to a halt.

"Listen," he answered, turning his head to the sky, his ears tuned perfectly to the faint noise emanating from the main cave. The group immediately became tense, each straining their senses to find the source of the supposed sound. A second after Evans told her of the noise Catherine heard it clearly.

"It's Ryan Barbossa. They must be close," she explained to her small crew. "Draw your weapons. From now on, I want complete silence until we reach the main cave. Alright, let's go then."

Her charges followed the command, Catherine drawing her sword after the rest. She paused before leading her crew further, looking back at them and admiring their bravery and willingness to follow her, a green, inexperienced captain, into battle. Sighing with blended contentment and anxiety, Catherine rotated to face their destination and took her first real steps toward her destiny.

It only took the miniature group a few minutes to find a route to the gathering place for Barbossa's crew. Once the sound of Ryan Barbossa's voice became louder and more defined, Catherine motioned for her crew to hang back in the safety of the shadows as she went on, scouting to see what was going on in hopes that she could judge when to signal to her crew. The girl's heart raced with anticipation as she drew nearer to the source of the problem, sweat breaking out upon her forehead and each step sending several beads of perspiration rolling down her nose and cheeks. It wasn't long before she could see Ryan Barbossa standing at the front of the cave, addressing his crew.

"And who was it that took your freedom and your lives from you and your comrades that fateful day?" Ryan asked, shouting to his crew.

"Turner!" they called back as one voice.

"Too long have you lived in hiding; too long have you been deprived of a good, honest living. We've been forced to abandon our way of life these sixteen long years, and now we've gathered to take it back. And so I ask ye again, gentlemen: who is it that shall pay for our freedom? Who will serve our price?" Ryan asked, riling his men into blood frenzy.

"Turner!" the crew shouted once more.

"Then bring the prisoner forth!" Ryan ordered, pointing to the back of the cave. Catherine's stomach churned as she saw her father's bound form shoved to about five feet in front of Ryan. The girl bit her lower lip to halt herself from crying out. That was the last thing she needed to do. Catherine watched on as Ryan Barbossa addressed Will from his perch atop of a rock behind an enormous, carved-stone chest.

"So, Mr. Turner, you have heard these men's testimonies against you. It is now time for me to lay down the verdict and the punishment." In one unnoticeable, fluid movement, Ryan's hand flicked down to whip his pistol from its place in his belt and cocked it. "Guilty," Ryan finished as he fired the weapon at Will's abdomen. In a cloud of smoke, Will fell backwards, collapsing onto the rocky floor of the cave. Catherine, sword drawn still, exploded. "No!" she shouted as she rushed out into the cave towards Ryan, pointing her blade at his throat in a momentary lapse of judgment.

"Ah," Ryan said coolly, turning to face the irate girl, "Look what we have her, gentlemen." At this remark, the crew jeered cruelly as they cocked pistols and drew daggers. However, Catherine kept her face solemn, fixed on Ryan Barbossa through narrowed eyes and her sword ready for action.

"Don't mess with me, Barbossa. This has gone too far," she growled.

Ryan choked on his words as he replied, "And what shall you accomplish on your own? How can you-a low, solitary girl who believes she is fit to be captain-stop me?" Ryan hated arguing with the girl, but he had resolved to carry out the plan, and only by confronting her so could he follow through with it.

At Ryan's comment, Catherine paused a moment. Directly after he stopped speaking, she heard what sounded like a mass of feet just outside the cave. Catherine smirked briefly at her opponent, telling him tacitly that she had a certain trick up her sleeve that he didn't know about. After a second, without taking her eyes away from Ryan's, Catherine shouted, "_Now!!_"

Without warning, Anamaria and Catherine's groups flooded into the cave from two sides, surprising Ryan's crew. Immediately, the fighting broke out between the two crews as Evans, Jack, and Gibbs moved the unconscious Will and the hysterical Elizabeth into an adjoining corridor. Ryan had grabbed the shoulder of Catherine's shirt and raised his sword in shock when she signaled the surprise attack, and now she could only turn her head to look at the clamor.

"Anamaria! Take it outside!" Catherine called. Anamaria nodded and told her crew to start pushing Ryan's forces out into the open air. Shortly after, the vast majority of dueling crewmembers had disappeared form the cave, leaving only one or two stragglers from Barbossa's crew who were slightly more intelligent than the rest.

Meanwhile, Evans, Jack, Gibbs, and Elizabeth were hidden amongst the intersecting stone segments of cave wall, tending to the severely wounded Will.

"Ooh," winced Gibbs as they examined the gunshot wound, "There ain't nothin' good 'bout that shot."

The pistol bullet had struck Will in the lower abdomen, just to the right of the stomach region. It was not the ideal location for such a wound to be received, and lack of resources made the problem worse. After a minute or so of debating about what to use to bind the wound, the tearstained Elizabeth breathed deeply for strength and tore off a length of material about three inches in width from around the bottom of her shirt. She then pressed it to the wound, finally wrapping it tightly around Will's injury. The tightness of the binding caused Will to snap quickly into consciousness, as well as groan with intense pain and discomfort.

"Oh, thank heaven you're alive!" sobbed Elizabeth into her husband's shoulder. She then regained her composure and sat back, breathing deeply to ease the flow of her tears.

"Where's my sword? I want to go back and help Catherine. I still have to fight!" Will managed to say, groping around the cavern floor for his weapon unsteadily.

"Easy on there, mate," Jack tisked, "You're in no state to go back in there."

"He's right, Will. I don't think you'll be doing much fighting for awhile," Elizabeth agreed gently.

At Will's comment, Evans' face lit up as though he had just remembered something important. "Catherine's still in there," he gasped. The boy then drew his sword and rushed back into the large cave, no other thoughts passing through his mind.

While all this occurred, much was astir in the main cavern. Ryan had since released Catherine from his grasp and the two now circled each other as hawks circle their potential prey.

The girl was just about at her breaking point with Ryan. There were a million reasons why she despised him now, and each of them burned at her inner core, fueling her for the fight. Ryan Barbossa, on the other hand, was inwardly nervous and afraid. While he put on a perfect pretense of determination and lack of emotion, it pained him greatly to be forced the duel Catherine-the only girl he had ever loved, the only girl he had ever really gotten to know and want to know more about. And now it was his duty to try and _kill_ her? Ryan felt sick to his stomach.

"Ryan," Catherine snarled, keeping her sword point up, "This has gone far enough. I used to think I loved you, that you were the perfect man. Now I see that while you are a good, interesting person, you have many impurities. I can no longer tell myself to trust that you will see the error of your ways and right them."

"Catherine," Ryan Barbossa pleaded, "can we at least try to talk this over?"

Catherine paused and thrust her blade closer to the young man's throat. "I'm sorry Ryan. I'm past that."

With that, the two began their intricate, perilous dance, flying into a rapid series of slashes and thrusts. Catherine's determination and fury gave her what she needed to gain the upper hand fairly quickly. However, Ryan matched the girl in strength, and this caused him to be a close contender. As the two swung wildly, blocking each other's attacks, neither noticed the shadow creep into the cave from another passageway to stand in silence, watching them.

Outside in the water, a different battle was raging. Anamaria had dashed back into the caves to alert Jack and Gibbs that their help was needed out with her crew, and the pair left Will and Elizabeth to rush to Anamaria and Mariana's aid. Upon reaching the ships, they noticed that the men Barbossa had left on the _Regency_ had loaded their cannons and were readying them to fire. The _Black Pearl_ was preparing itself as quickly as possible to defend itself from the attack, and Jack, Gibbs, Anamaria, and Mariana found themselves rushing around frantically in an attempt to fire back. "Fire!" each screamed to their respective charges, each overseeing a different cannon. A series of loud blasts shattered the night, smoke rising from each ship to drown out the moonlight. As the men on the _Pearl_ readied their troops for another volley, Gibbs caught sight of another ship, fast approaching from behind the _Pearl_. He called Jack over to him, anxiety apparent in his voice. "Jack," he said, "that ain't no ship I know. What should we do?"

Jack simply stared at the oncoming ship, his jaw set tight in resolution. "It's Norrington," he said knowingly, "Ignore them for now. We'll just have to deal with them when they get here. Load the guns!" he shouted, eyes still focused on the Navy vessel.

A few minutes and three more cannon shootouts later, the ship pulled in behind the Pearl, Norrington's stately form standing proudly onboard. The man disappeared from his own ship, resurfacing minutes later on the deck of the Pearl. The cannons had since ceased fire, and both _Regency_ and _Pearl_ sat in astonishment and aggravation as the soldiers piled aboard the latter ship. Norrington sought out Jack and came to stand proudly before the man on the quarterdeck. "Well, well. Jack Sparrow," he smiled smugly, "I have come to fulfill the agreement reached when we made our bargain, as you well remember."

Jack's eyes widened, considering the accord he and the other had from when Jack first arrived in Port Royal. "Yes, but you see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," he said like a child giving an excuse to their mother.

"Nonetheless, it is now my duty to take you into custody. That was what we agreed upon, was it not?" Norrington asked. Gibbs and a few other men stood behind Jack, looking at each other in wonder.

"It was," Jack replied. He quickly glanced to the men behind him. "Well, then, as it was our accord, I suppose there's no arguing to be had."

Gibbs touched Jack's shoulder lightly as Norrington turned to give orders to his men. "What're ye doin', Jack Sparrow? I've never known ye to give up like that," he said.

Jack simply whispered back. "Don't worry. It'll be easy to get out of once we're back in Port Royal." Gibbs shrugged with resignation and backed away, not questioning the matter any further. As Jack turned to face Norrington again, the latter grabbed his wrists and looped a pair of irons around them, ensuring that the man would not easily escape. "Take him to the ship," Norrington commanded, and Jack was hauled off to the Navy ship. Gibbs looked to the Commodore inquiringly.

"What about us?" he asked.

"Oh- you're free to go," the man replied with a shrug. "Sparrow's the one we came for." And with that, Norrington and his men departed the Pearl to head back to Port Royal, and leaving Gibbs and the rest to ponder the strange occurrence.

Back in the caves, Ryan Barbossa had begun to adjust his tactics. He made more sweeping blows, trying to send Catherine off balance. The young woman remained surefooted, however, and took quick, light steps closer to her opponent. Ryan's idea wasn't working. He then decided to inch closer himself, continuing to swing low and wide. The pair danced through the pale light emanating from the wide aperture in the ceiling and splashing through the large areas of seawater in the cave floor. Ryan forced Catherine upon the mound of rock containing the chest once more, keeping up with his long swings. Catherine attempted to evade the sharp sword point, leaning backwards away from Ryan. Her plan did not work though. Ryan's blade found a mark, swiping away just barely across her midriff. The girl hurtled backwards, toppling off the rock into the water below.

It was at this moment that the figure waiting in the shadows rushed out from his place in the dim perimeter of the cave to step in front of Ryan Barbossa, sword drawn. "If you want her, you'll have to get past me first," growled Ryan Evans as he glared with fierce determination into Barbossa's steel-blue eyes.

"And who are you?" sneered the other, despite the fact that he already knew the answer.

Evans scraped his blade against Barbossa's, grinning devilishly. "Your maker," he answered.

With this unexpected reply, the young men set to thrusting and parrying, dashing through the cave. The sound of clashing metal echoed around the cavern, its metallic tone stinging the ears of all who could hear it. It was Barbossa against Evans, a perfect match for a fight. Barbossa had the strength and natural stance of a seasoned fighter, as well as a gentlemanly way of planning and executing his attacks. On the other hand, Ryan Evans possessed an inbred intuition for battling and a grace about him that could only come from years of practice and experience.

While the two Ryans battled, Catherine had troubles of her own. After she had fallen, she had lain in the chilly seawater, furious. She held an arm across her wound, her eyes shut tight against the pain. The wound was not deep, however, and she stood ready to attack once more. When she rose, a figure approached her from behind. The Turner girl heard the slosh of water behind her and whirled around to see who it was, drawing her sword up just in case. Her blade met another, sending a sharp reverberating off the surrounding walls. It was one of Barbossa's crewmen! Catherine strained against her opponent's weapon, forcing it to the ground. She then hustled into the more open area of the cavern, giving her more room to fight. Still keeping her left arm to her wound, Catherine grinned as she swung and thrust, glad to be back on her feet and in the action once more.

On the other side of the cave, Evans and Barbossa were still battling. The pair ran through the dark, narrow passages in the cavern, each attempting to hit the other all the while. They remained in one covered hall of stone for some time, using the darkness as a weapon against one another. Ryan Barbossa whipped up his sword, catching Evans' shirt with the blade. The former pulled his opponent closer, using the sword as a hook to keep Evans from escaping.

"Tell me, do you think you're better than I am just because you're on her side?" Barbossa hissed into Evans' ear.

"No," replied Evans. He twisted around, unhooking himself from Ryan Barbossa's sword. The weapon became entangled in Evans' shirt and this wrested it from the other's grasp. Evans caught the hilt of the blade and held it aloft along with his own, aimed at his adversary. "I _know_ I'm better."

Barbossa backed away slowly, nervous and wary now that he was unarmed. He walked backwards out into the open, not looking where he was going-just keeping his eyes on the twin blades in Evans' hands. Suddenly, he feinted tripping and hurtled over into the water, where his hand slipped covertly to his boot. Evans did not notice this motion, however, and backed away, lowering the swords to give his enemy room to get up. This was unwise, however. For at that moment, Barbossa flew into a standing position, lunging at Evans' stomach with the small, sharp knife that he had drawn out of his boot. The latter stumbled back, dumbstruck and confused, his face a twisted picture of pain and stunned horror as the moonlight shone upon him for the first time that night through the natural skylight in the cave ceiling.

At that precise time, Catherine glanced over at the two, having heard the spluttering of someone being stabbed and growing concerned. Upon looking to see if all was well, her eyes widened at the strange, almost unpleasant sight that greeted them. Ryan Evans stood in the light, his sword still upraised, but his skin and muscle gone. His normally neat canvas shirt and breeches were now full of torn holes, and his strong, gentle hands had been replaced with only grey bone. Ryan Evans was under the curse of the pirates. He procured the fateful piece of gold from within his pants pocket and held it up, showing it clearly to all who could see.

"I suppose luck favors the prepared," he smirked (if it could be called a smirk now that his face had become grayish tissue-thin material.

"How did you get that!" exclaimed Barbossa. He was _really_ not expecting this.

"When I rushed in after Catherine signaled us, I simply reached in and held onto the first thing I touched," Evans explained with a casual smile.

"Well, see if you can hold onto this!" Barbossa said, throwing out a leg, making Evans trip. The boy fell, the coin flying out of his hand on the way. Immediately, the bony figure was replaced with the regular, normal one, and the usual form of Evans was bleeding from several wounds received just before the curse left him. Catherine, seeing her best friend lose grasp of both his footing and the gold piece, dove to catch the small bit of metal before Barbossa could. Instantly after her hand closed around the still-warm metal, she felt an icy chill sweep suddenly over her body. The air smelled dank and sour to her, and she felt as though she were simply a could of smoke, made up only of ash and dust. Catherine scrambled out of the moonlight, remembering what she saw when Evans stood under it, and began to fight once more with Barbossa.

"What now, Ryan Barbossa? I am under the famed curse of Cortes. There's no loophole you can find this time," Catherine stated, circling Barbossa. She then swung and spun, using a number of varied attacks to try and catch Ryan off-guard. She had no such luck. Barbossa then lunged forward, sending Catherine dashing around the cave, dodging areas of light. The girl hurried up to the high rock with the chest on it, hoping the terrain might help her. Barbossa followed, preparing himself for the win. Catherine visualized what would happen in the following minutes, using her knowledge of Barbossa's personality and methods of attack she had seen him use. Praying that her vision was correct, she fell into a sloppier, more careless technique of sword fighting. She paid little heed to her footing, and her swings and steps were disorderly. Noting the incline of the mound on which they were battling, Catherine planned what she would do. Suddenly, she tossed the Aztec coin high over Barbossa's head, willing it silently to land in the chest. The soft chink of metal upon metal told her that it had found its mark, and she stood paying little attention to Ryan. Barbossa, seeing a potential chance to finally win, caught a leg behind Catherine's, sending the girl flying to land on her back. Her sword landed about six inches to her right, and she breathed a surreptitious sigh of relief, knowing that Ryan had fallen into her trap. Taking into account the location of her blade, Catherine put the final pieces of the puzzle together to give her just what she needed at that moment.

Barbossa raised his own sword to Catherine's throat. He loosed a soft, sad chuckle and looked down at the girl he truly loved. "I really will miss you. I did love you, you know. Too bad about that 'loophole' though," Ryan commented. He then raised high his blade, and as he did this, Catherine could have sworn she saw the shine of a single tear at the corner of Barbossa's eye. It was then, on a hot Caribbean August night on an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is, Catherine Turner's hand shot to grasp her rapier and in one graceful motion, flick the blade up to meet the lower chest of Ryan Barbossa. The girl closed her eyes, which were brimming with tears as she felt the blade sink into the flesh. Her hands and arms felt no longer part of her body as the weight of Ryan Barbossa came upon her. Drawing out the sword quickly, Catherine caught the young man in her arms and brushed away a single lock of golden-brown hair from her burden's eyes and bit her lower lip to staunch a fresh flow of tears. Then, taking her sword in hand, she gazed down at Ryan, who grew paler by the minute, and said, "I never want us to be apart." She then braced herself and ran the palm of her hand across the edge of the blade, creating a long, thin cut in her skin. She helped Ryan do the same, and finally the pair held each other's hand, finalizing their bond forever.

Ryan Barbossa, steadily weakening from loss of blood, raised his head to the best of his ability. "Look back on the ocean. Let the sea be your life, take up piracy to remember me," he managed to say, his cold eyes growing softer and warmer.

"I will," Catherine replied, "I swear it." Having said this, she bent her head so that her lips touched his gently. With this final kiss, the last bit of life in him was drained from Ryan Barbossa and his icy, steel blue eyes closed for the last time.

Catherine sat quietly for a minute, her hot tears splashing upon the stubble of facial hair on Ryan's chin. Then, despite the tears clouding her vision and the great weight, Catherine Turner effortlessly hoisted the body of Ryan Barbossa and laid it atop the great stone chest, the moonlight shining pale and beautiful upon his now-peaceful face. Catherine then knelt at the base of the chest, salty tears now falling upon her knees and bloodstained hands. She felt a gentle, loving hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Evans standing compassionately and reassuringly above her.

"It's done. The curse is gone," was all he said. With that, Catherine threw her arms around his neck, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. This lasted for a minute or two until the low boom of cannon fire reached their ears from out in the harbor. The pair rotated to face the main entrance of the cave, seeing to their surprise Will leaning against the rock wall.

"That's my girl," he nodded proudly, glad that his daughter finally found it in herself to do what was right. He then grew more serious. "Jack and Gibbs have gone with Anamaria's crew. They heard some odd noise outside and were asked to help investigate. I don't think I want to know what it is."

"Well," said Elizabeth, emerging from behind Will, "Why don't we go and find out?"

When the four-three injured and one with hardly a scratch on her-finally reached the open water in a discarded jollyboat, they could not believe their eyes.

The _Pursuit_ sat gently in the water without a soul aboard her. The _Regency_ was shrinking rapidly over the horizon, and most of Barbossa's crewmembers had either been killed or taken prisoner. However, it was a third ship, nearly invisible on the borderline between sea and sky that caught their eye. It was large and smartly painted and nary a splinter appeared out of line. Through Evans' spyglass, a number of blue smudges could be seen on deck, and this was what caused the four occupants of the small boat to gasp. "_Norrington!_"

Will stared at the disappearing ship in resolve. "We have to take the _Pursuit_-it's the only way we'll get to Port Royal fast enough." He noticed another ship quickly speeding after the Navy vessel and a thought passed his mind. "Gibbs must have taken that one. He'll need some help, and we'd better leave as quickly as possible. I have a feeling Jack is in trouble."

Back at home in Port Royal, a familiar scene played out upon the cobblestone floor of the fort. A gallows was set up in the center of the large square area, and a lone figure stood bound upon it. Numerous townspeople surrounded the scaffolding, all excited for a hanging, especially of one as notorious as he who stood awaiting his fate on the wooden structure.

Four people stood on a platform across the square from the scaffold; two men, a young girl, and an anxious-looking woman. Elizabeth Turner was not nervous as to the fate of Jack Sparrow, but the success of her daughter's first unlawful public act. However, she made no sign of this to her father, Norrington, or her younger daughter Victoria who stood nearby, and simply waved her small cloth fan frantically. Her breath grew shorter by the second in anticipation.

A short, stout man in a grey suit and cap and white wig came to stand on the gallows. He produced a long scroll, off of which he read a number of various criminal offenses-some humorous, many familiar to two cloaked figures who made their way through the crowd. One, a shorter person with darker hair, worked her way nearer to the front side of the gallows, while the other, a taller man, moved around to the back. As Will approached the backside of the wooden platform, he glanced quickly back to note his daughter's progress. Seeing that she was almost in position, he smiled with excited pride and continued towards his own place. The first person, Catherine Turner, tried to shove through the crowd, but to no avail. She was about three-quarters of the way there when the executioner stepped forward to place the noose around Jack's neck. Catherine drew her sword, frustrated with the crowd control issues, and dashed forward with the silent prayer that her practicing had paid off. She hurled her blade forward, causing it to stick fast beneath the scaffolding right as the lever was pulled. Jack, still bound and well-learned in this process by now, stood on the blade of the sword, which was firmly lodged deep into the wood, until he could drop down and slit his bonds. Will was waiting for him with an extra sword as Jack hurried around to the back, knowing his escape route well. Catherine hustled up to pull her sword free and battle her way to join her father and "uncle" while her mother distracted Governor Swann and Norrington.

The threesome made their way to the edge of the fort, fighting and dodging soldiers all the way. At last, they had come to a dead end. Surrounded, each held up their swords as a last defense while Norrington, realizing what was going on, rushed to the scene.

"Ah, so here we are again gentlemen-and lady," the man sneered, indicating Catherine, "I assure you that this time you will not slip out of my grasp."

"You said that last time, Norrington. And amazingly, here we are again," Jack pointed out blatantly. At that moment, Governor Swann, Elizabeth, and Victoria arrived. Catherine's grandfather, sighing at his predicament, ordered the soldiers to lower their weapons.

"Well, thank you gentlemen, as always. But I really must be going. Elizabeth-" Jack called as he stepped out of the ring of soldiers, "Don't go too hard on young Evans. He's really a nice young man once you get to know him. Will, well done once again. Oh-and Catherine, your father wasn't lying after all. You really are the best swordsman I've ever seen." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Swords_woman_," he corrected.

Catherine smiled at Jack's blunt comment, glad for the praise. With that, Jack flung himself over the edge of the fort, executing a perfect dive into the harbor below where the _Black Pearl_ sat waiting for him. He began to swim rapidly to the hull of the ship, where a rope was lowered slowly into the water. Jack grabbed the rope and grinned as he was hauled on deck. He was back!

Meanwhile, up at the fort, Will, Catherine, and Elizabeth had been left alone, the soldiers having gone to their normal posts after they were instructed to do so by Norrington.

Elizabeth wandered over to stand next to her husband, her hands clasped behind her back. "You were wonderful back on the island," she cooed gently, "I'm glad we're home." And with that, she reached up and swept Will's hat off his head and kissed him deeply and lovingly. She then backed away, addressing both her daughter and husband. "They're waiting for you. You'd best get going."

At that moment, the top of a ship's tall mast appeared about seven or so feet away from the stone edge, and Catherine and Will strode over to the short wall. Each tipped their hat to Elizabeth, who smiled, proud of the pair. Then, without warning, both jumped over the edge, catching handfuls of sail and rope to break their fall.

Elizabeth looked after them for a moment, shook her head, and walked away, a smile still lingering on her face.

Will and Catherine had since climbed down the mast and rigging down to the deck. Evans, Gibbs, and Jack stood on the wooden deck, waiting for the pair to arrive on the ground. Gibbs was no different from when they had last met, but the boy was clad in a new, bright ivory shirt and navy pants. A light coat was draped around his shoulders and a large hat sat proudly atop his head.

"Good," Evans smiled, mostly at Catherine, "We were almost ready to leave without you. Why don't you gentlemen," he continued, indicating Will, Jack, and Gibbs, "go inside and pour the rum. We'll be along in a minute."

The three men nodded and followed the suggestion, leaving Evans and Catherine on the deck alone.

"Catherine," Evans sighed, "I know I should have told you this more often. I have felt this since we first met in the tavern. I truly love you," he said, gazing into her dark brown eyes.

"Well," she replied, "that's good, because I love you, too."

She leapt into his arms and the two shared their first real kiss. Both were lost in a world belonging just to the two of them. So when Jack opened the door to call them in, neither noticed him, "Oh," Jack said, closing the door with a knowing smile.

"Let's go in, then," Catherine suggested once she and Evans had separated.

"Right," Evans seconded her. And the two, walking next to each other with their hands held tightly, went into the musty cabin where Will, Jack, and Gibbs were already seated. Two chairs were vacant around the circular table, and two untouched glasses of rum sat in front of the seats.

"Well, that was by far my favorite escape attempt yet," Will commented, sending the other four into a fit of laughter, celebrating the victorious endeavor. As they each began to drink from their glasses, Jack started into an old pirate shanty well known to all of them. After swallowing, Will, Evans, Gibbs, and Catherine joined in the song. However, when they reached the "yo ho" chorus, Catherine called for a halt.

"Hold on," she interrupted, "What does that mean?"

"What?" inquired Jack Sparrow in his usual sagging drawl.

" 'Yo ho.' What is that?"

Gibbs and Jack exchanged glances. They had never known anyone who questioned the pirate tune. "Well, it's well….I don't know…" the men ad-libbed, not fully sure how to answer.

"It's an exclamation-sort of," Ryan Evans supplied.

"Well," Catherine said, reaching for the bottle to pour herself more rum, "In my opinion, when it says, 'drink up, me hearties, yo ho,' it should instead say, 'you're home.'"

"Why?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, as a pirate, the ship and ocean are your home, so while you're drinking on a ship, you're really at home," the girl reasoned.

Gibbs, Jack, Will, and Evans looked at each other, considering the idea.

"I suppose we could try," Gibbs said with a shrug. The others nodded, willing to try out the new words.

Jack hummed the first few bars of the song, leading the rest into the tune. The others joined in as they filled their glasses again. Evans, Gibbs, Will, and Catherine sang loudly as they raised their glasses, clinking them together.

"…and really bad eggs. Drink up me hearties, you're home!"

1 This part is an excerpt from the film Pirates of the Caribbean, written by Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio and directed by Gore Verbinski. The excerpt ends when Will says, "I agreed. Naturally there were…"

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